biochicklet

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No call I want to make,

nor book that I can concentrate on.

Nothing looks good to eat, and

the wind keeps howling in a threatening way.

Blue days are dangerously frequent since

you disappeared and no one understands.

 

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Author: biochicklet

Scientist raised by intellectuals on poetry, theater, art, history and music in New York City. Escaped to New Mexico to nature and mysticism. Knowing that the absurdities in this life are what we must laugh at.

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