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short poem

ca. beschwerte sich zum Meister
ich habe sie in der Nacht gehört
als Meer-Winde unsere Solitudes durchbohrten
Ginghamhund und die Kalikokatze
der Geruch von stieg so falsch, die zutreffenden Dornen so
nehmen Sie meine Bracelets
ich stand das geöffnete Flügelfenster bereit
und noch gingen sie an
die hypocritic Tage
der alte Westen, die alte Zeit

 



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