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funny poetry

still her gray rocks tower above the sea
as a naked man i go
i saw the clouds among the hills
stuff of the moon
under a spreading chestnut tree
i am a woman
there is a country full of wine
truely
what spiteful chance steals unawares
often i think of the beautiful town
i have heard them in the night
sitting in his rocker waiting for your tea
noises that strive to tear
let us plant

 



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