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baby poem

diese alte silberne Schüssel von meinen
ich sah die archangels in meinem Apfel-Baum gestern Abend
bewiesen im Schimmer in Ihren Augen
gute Frau
ich hatte einen Traum und ich wachte mit ihm auf
innerhalb dieses niedrigen Grabs liegt ein conqueror
die auf das Oberseite sagen, daß sie Sie, Masse kennen -- sie sind Lügner
die Schwärzung

 



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