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Main Street clairvoyant
With her $5 revelation -
We’re all going to die
florescent buzz
of the streetlight fleeting against
the infinity of night
soggy cherrios
left on the slide - forgotten
in mid-imagination
liver spots
on the streets
we grew up in
duck bobbing merrily
feet fluttering in the summer air
another quaint death
sun bleeds red
through closed eyelids
can’t escape the day
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