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■ I know what you're thinking, father
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I’ve thrown away
all my pencils ball pens workbooks my typewriter my computer eagerly I’ve hooked up a rope long and thin from the sharp end of the sky I’ve made the sign of the cross in a circle and firmly hanged myself by the tongue a winged and haggard creature slowly and melancholically rocks me hidden in my shadow stutteringly I dictate poems straightway to the void who listens wearily absorbs them in the primordial substance and then disgusted spits rotten pips at my feet
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