ForkWordPoems by Inchiki |
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Venice againWhen it all sings me to some spot be happy with the lot Venice is my womb a wiggly coffee room through wandering to and fro I’m a naughty embryo collecting little secrets in my melancholy head. So many here before me unlike them, I am not dead. The buildings and the women the pigeons and the boats. Especially the women; today I’ve x-ray vision! Or a very good imagination. from the red notebook, 1998 |
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