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  • let's spit the two of us let's spit
    on what we loved
    on what we loved the two of us
    yes because this poem the two of us
    is a waltz tune and i imagine
    what is dark and incomparable passing between us
    like a dialogue of mirrors abandoned
    in a baggage-claim somewhere say foligno
    or bourboule in the auvergne
    certain names are charged with a distant thunder
    yes let's spit the two of us on these immense landscapes
    where little rented cars cruise by
    yes because something must still
    some thing
    reconcile us yes let's spit
    the two of us it's a waltz
    a kinf of convenient sob
    let's spit let's spit tiny automobiles
    let's spit that's an order
    a waltz of mirrors
    a dialogue in the void
    listen to these immense landscapes where the wind
    cries over what we loved
    one of them is a horse leaning its elbow on the earth
    the other a deadman shaking out linen the other
    the trail of your footprints i remember a deserted village
    on the shoulder of a scorched mountain
    i remember your shoulder
    i remember your elbow your linen your footprints
    i remember a town where there was no horse
    i remember your look which scorched
    my deserted heart a dead mazeppa whom a horse
    carries away like that day on the mountain
    drunkenness sped my run through the martyred oaks
    which bled prophetically while day
    light fell mute over the blue trucks
    i remember so many things
    so many evenings rooms walks rages
    so many stops in worthless places
    where in spite of everything the spirit of mystery rose up
    like the cry of a blind child in a remote train depot