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concrete poetry

ich kann nicht Ihnen jetzt erklären
für diese weißen Arme über meinen Ansatz
ich wußte nie, daß die Masse soviel Gold hatte
über den Dachspitzen laufen Sie die Schatten der Wolken
vor er war viele und viel einem Jahr
behold ich, in meinem chiffon, in Gaze und in Filterstreifen
drehen Sie mich unten durch die Wiese
jenseits schauen

 



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