front yard, before midday (high noon on another zone) and waiting for the powerlines to shake and the boys in black (like Kesher in Mul.Drive... that that that feeling) and they come up the road and take me away.
I fear and lament and await the day.
Blonde curls, and maybe (afterall) it will be a key in my hands, a bed of grass under my gentle hand, lifelines touching to the green, foretelling lush futures.
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