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“There was a lone poppy-head in the field that was saving its thoughts on a pile in the wood and when it had shaken its fear of motion it borrowed a sugar bowl at a small train station and dispatched this letter I am always so alone I miss your fine tentacles My skin is no longer smoked Now I belong to that order of birds who let others hatch their eggs Come I send sweetest regards” — Jindřich Heisler
There was a lone poppy-head in the field
that was saving its thoughts
on a pile in the wood
and when it had shaken its fear of motion
it borrowed a sugar bowl at a small train station
and dispatched this letter
I am always so alone
I miss your fine tentacles
My skin is no longer smoked
Now I belong to that order of birds
who let others hatch their eggs
Come
I send sweetest regards