In the Niger River region, there is a town whose name is the stuff of dreams: the mysterious Timbuktu. They say that, a very long time ago, the nomads entrusted the care of a well there to an old
...
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the love poems roll out of this machine
endless,
and full offense--
hackneyed.
you feed it everything and yet
it couldn't print you for all the world, or me
you, with your heart of clear air and
your wide and guileless eyes
that dart away, as do our hands
in fists
because people break what they touch
or break the spell, with words
the poet had better leave alone.
endless,
and full offense--
hackneyed.
you feed it everything and yet
it couldn't print you for all the world, or me
you, with your heart of clear air and
your wide and guileless eyes
that dart away, as do our hands
in fists
because people break what they touch
or break the spell, with words
the poet had better leave alone.
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