
II
the beautiful Kore
oh, mister
we loved
was like
a cyclamen
in her death
bed
let us dust off our muddy pants
let us stir the harps of artesian wells
let us drive the gypsies to the sea
let us harvest the breasts
of our most beautiful
girls

II
the beautiful Kore
oh, mister
we loved
was like
a cyclamen
in her death
bed
let us dust off our muddy pants
let us stir the harps of artesian wells
let us drive the gypsies to the sea
let us harvest the breasts
of our most beautiful
girls