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Aug 2011
Sweet and saltless riptides running forth from rusting fire hydrants
Cooling the dirt ridden skin of boys and girls fresh from the tumult of life in our dying city
Who are
No more different than those who were willingly whitewashed whistling gingerly behind the white picket fences that to me are reminiscent

Of crucifixes
Ian C Prescott
Written by
Ian C Prescott
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