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166 autumn break For who can human back? The race, the lameness: the divine is negro, it’s white. The indian jumps from the ridge onto the horse.         What things are not too near us? I see him walking away with you, and        the leaves keep falling               from the trees. lonely in the park A sore of love. That I’ve found. Formula. What? From cell to cell. From play. Enzymes. football The helmets, there all alone,              the seagulls.   The one who rides.      Mother and windy, the exercise,                                            exercise. tripod Since this tripod of despair is             here alone. I am with you    forever.          The rag    in the tree is still there. ...

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