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funny poem

once this soft turf
as i lie roofed in, screened in
in the cloud-gray mornings
royal feast was done
candles toppling sideways in tomato cans
bring me soft song
and my name is truthful
in the dark and peace of my final bed
tell me
mysterious night
i stand in the cold gray weather
is there anybody there
and how could you dream of meeting

 



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