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a down town John Kay a side-street bench no loitering printed red in the alley a bum is at rest half-empty bottle five long snipes in his pocket old woman shuffles pushes wire rolling basket day-old bread crumbled for bird feed she pauses to eat hard-boiled egg wayward-lost foil birthday balloon skips along a landing strip what's it for celebrations unattended its red ribbon ragged and bright colors now faded businessman drops coin in parking meter's slot checks his watch, its hot and discarded gum adheres to overpriced shoes, an agglutination a pothole so big a seagull swims in it so far away crashes the ocean but here a lost hubcap lies dirty and bent left behind unspoken bad choices noon whistle blows echo is forming long lunch lines chicken nuggets and fries oven’s odor blasts pigeons from perches fly to the sun shed feathers left floating 35
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