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The 7th Floor

Counting young women in black leggings

and baseball caps, with ancient letters inscribed on the tops of them.

One-thousand, three-hundred, thirty-five dollars

and fifty-four cents,

for half a year

of friendship.

 

The damp sidewalk is the stage,

the crushed orange leaves a platform.

Rubber rain boots have only existed for three or four decades.

Holes in an umbrella, holes in mother's boots;

Whatever that man said last night,

whatever that was,

it wasn't an oxymoron.

 

Leafing leaves, neon green with orangish tips

shake subtly with a light breeze,

and madly with a heavy breeze.

Or is that a squirrel?

Foreground, background, juxsta-

positions;

And I,

just in the right position.

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Written by
madeleine-toerne
Published
Oct 16, 2013
Lines·Words
21·110
Permission

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