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fingers on the paper (here, a long poem will die)

entry picture
i got you wrong

just like a half-existing woman,

                     you scared the evening, 

                                                                                      istanbul was ratting that time                                                                                       (whatever it is)

"so wittgenstein said..."
you had fingers.
they're tiny cigarettes.
dear can't you know the smell?
april is anxious,
                    say nothing.
she like it anyway,
                    i said.
hence we're there
           or here,
 what changes?

in april cats are astonished

rats are apartment buildings, look closer.

in april saddam was overthrown(party was over).

it was an april -was looking for a miracle, i wanted to become my own jesus- i saw you.


which solitude paper
we've spoken to, the most.
your legs...
                     first
left turn
                   when you see the steps of Arcadia.

this quiet weather...

        i've always known my "bad"s.
 i knew it when i was no one, 
              knew it,
                         i was a "middle" one,
                                      someone mediocre.
                     a scarce and sick mindset.

                    knew it when i fell in love with 2000's poets,

                           "letters will resist!"

                                             type of poets,

                                     t,

                               hen-ce i became one, a silly one.

which god has abandoned us the most?

which god of ours was grunting in our minds?

which of yours,
                        will kill you, as you just knew it?

                       but you didn't make a sentence out of it did you?

you spat on
the wall.
4 years old you, riot time...

r              i                  o                  t

cold night you've had...
           towards that
                             shallow ones
                                   (us.).

                 have we ever known 

                   if we were

                       ok

                       to

                       live?

you said anachronistic was the dog,
                          it was barking to sirius.

                       A, B?

dog knew it as a lollipop and we didn't understand what they were talknig about.
which archetype we'll hog?
we've had that: humanity (being a human, indeed),
tried to.
  you always has wanted to be a wall in a passage.
      i got you zero. "short". april is an "assolist". 
                    i knew what we'll mean by that. but let'em know what they want.

                                                          

existential crisisloveabsurdpostmodernArcadiancity

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