Ode to Nezahualcoyotl It casts its reverse image at me full Depleted of matter of greenery but enough of a quotient it fulfills its

color is a denser enamel therefore it’s vehicular the floral as though pains of glass in a window, stained erected with plates red orange and blue shocked with the sunrise scattering hues an anima the force as of Lorca the sound of a name is a sound and name which together have formed this machine—me I am what I defy of gravity An interminable waste of some something Does my worth do as the squandered petals Nezahuaycoyotl , professor, immortal?

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