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teacher poem

Blüten der Babys
sie sagte
mein Sohn ist tot und ich bin gehender Vorhang
ich hatte den Fall über-vorbereitet
in der LageSEIN, jede Seite jeder Frage zu sehen
in einem alten Raum beleuchtete weich
wenig Park, den ich durch führe
Material des Mondes
herauf von die Wiesen reich mit Mais

 



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