child
you're all teeth
and ears on
your giant
little bike
strai - ning - to - keep - walk - ing - pace
defending yourself
from all those roaming,
unpredictable,
homeless street lamp poles
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the sun shines brightly cutting through the haze into tight corners of the post-atomic daze the concrete alley floor, with its broken flow...
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for fourteen years i wished my father dead at the age of eighteen i buried him it would take another six years to be rid of his physica...
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