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fall poetry

stand here by my side
my soul is a dark ploughed field
to some the fat gods
some one complained to the master
glooms of the live-oaks
beneath my window in a city street
as a naked man i go
the body may confine
desolate and lone
i went up and down the streets
were it not for that singular smell
quietly, with reverance, in awe
earth travails
when i returned at sunset

 



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