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(Thick head of the triangle):
Paris, Prague, 1968,
Left to Santiago, 1973,
Right to Tokyo, 1968,
Back to the head and down to
The anal centre of the globe.
That's where and when my great grandfather had always lived.
I'm now working with the Swedish refugees by sea-farms, and they somehow
resemble the coastal farmlands inhabited by my tribe back home in "Libya's Castle",
At the camp, I think none of the Libyan coasts but the remnants of uprising euphoria, which
Spawned poppy-loves at
Where feline orgasms dominate the sleep-filled tenements.
Bad is how I reach my great grandfather's youthful hopes, and how
I fail to see through what my former-revolutionaries (refugees) did.