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Nov 2011
Downtown is toned by streetlights on Saginaw St.,
tracing her cobbled backbone—

on the corner a pool of light is a lullaby,
but clearer to see brick by brick,
layers of calloused palms,
callous shadows cross-hatching;
blue-collar, white-collar, police-collared,
all with matching steel jewelry—

We place the blame of an abandoned city
like hands wrapped around each other’s throats,

I hold my breath.

Buildings straighten themselves to look up,
our *****-mouthed, thieving, empty-pocket,
sole-less shoe, unapologetic town looks up,
both feet on pavement residued with used to be,
timeless like a good pair of jeans,
we all look up.

We whisper the secrets of a town unmoved
when hitting rock bottom.

We whisper to one-another an unwavering gaze,
a fight, a consolation, and stroll with heavy feet
under the sky of flickering city stars
with corporate automotive names,

We whisper all or nothing
     To dark windows in tall buildings,
     close our eyes for sleep;
     the sun comes up tomorrow.
Catharine Mary Batsios
966
   --- and A L Davies
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