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at five hundred hours maybe six
at five hundred hours maybe sixthe streets through july are still partially shadedfrom the midtown sun by the overnight darkinto those streets comesthe ambulance in its kitten skinned coatits eyes flash like emergenciesit mews and a siren criesat one of the fourplex doorswhere with kitten claws its knockscrapes down the weathered tinthe ambulance is the Continue reading
About Me
I have a day.
