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suicide poem

do the boys and girls still go
when sea-winds pierced our solitudes
there by the window in the old house
if it
i sometimes wonder if it's really true
have you not heard
a gleam of gold in gloom and gray
among the smoke and fog of a december afternoon
full of tears
city that is not a city
give me hunger
in new york harbor
love has been sung a thousand ways

 



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