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(Untitled)
It was a long long war. My family was very poor ( Read more... ) -
(Untitled)
while an ant
toiled from the dahlia
to the ash tray
I was forming
a beautiful lie
*
having shot
a winter dove that
might be my god,
I go home
with smoking gun
*
when I smoke
a bitter bitter morning cigarette
the wings
of a seagull
skim my heart
*
being of mixed blood
I feel lonely
even if I win-
I walk along chewing
a hot grass stalk
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