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A Bonneville cruises the
alley, subwoofer swings
its wrecking ball against my head. Druggies next door
howl like demons with a fresh harvest of souls.
A police helicopter egg beats low, PA barking
an Amber Alert. Mrs. Siegel yells at her boy again.
A door slams. Glass shatters. Weeping. The jazz station
tumbles Billie Holiday into static.
Lights flicker, the compressor in the fridge
kicks a metallic ding – ding – ding.
I close my eyes, breathe in, out, in, out,
feel the little chill at the tips of my nostrils.
Thoughts loom, pass, recede
like road signs or hitchhikers. No rides today.
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