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Streets damp with the energy of a gone sky
imprinted with a chant of feet
guarded by sharp singing copper
barbed to tumble an old music chart
winging and flanging its punctured drum heads
creature built up by a rain of ceiling wires
cutting itself down to wax stalactite
standing with grin of charcoal
in the sweetheart wreath's valentine
dead center of the death squad, pulsing with gravity