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Bird in Space

Date Written: September 21, 2017

She loves poetry, a fancy land 
Where she draws her new clothes, called the 
Leather of hope 
Sing to me, I said 
Wait for me, I read 
From her little, edgy beak 
No matter how I think 
No clue, from the language of wonderland 
No flu, from the montage of future place 
No prophet, no linguist, no one who really knows 
Brancusi, created the birdie 
Where she perches in space 
In my place

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