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poem for dad

beneath my window in a city street
there was a strangeness on your lips
i despise my friends more than you
backward, turn backward
the hypocritic days
three days i heard them grieve when i lay dead
babylon-where i go dreaming
musing, between the sunset and the dark
her face is fair and smooth and fine
the sun is up
along a river-side
at midnight
i gazed upon the glorious sky

 



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