Bruce Nauman
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The Artists’ Head Strung from The Artist’s Head
Wikipedia Poem, No. 885 drop anything my brown kitchen stand falligators quarries airfields swamps post-industrial towns no weather here deep withering made-thing in beautiful or dissociated harmony frying up the stuff and father we make we sort we tell stories you’ll see you said what i don’t call those i read of you here i…
wikipoem.org 