Neither tribal nor trivial he shouts
From the city's center where tramcars move
Like stained bacilli across the eyeballs;
Where people spore in composite buildings
From their protective gelatine of doubts,
Old ills, and incapacity to love
Neither tribal nor trivial he shouts
From the city's center where tramcars move
Like stained bacilli across the eyeballs;
Where people spore in composite buildings
From their protective gelatine of doubts,
Old ills, and incapacity to love
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