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This is a small poem that
I wrote at the Tate Museum

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in London sitting in front
of a huge Monet canvas

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and it's a tiny little poem.

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Monet's Irises.

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These flowers have
dreamed themselves back

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into pure color.

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The greens of undivided water.

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The formless greens
of meadow just as god

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said, let there be irises.

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