Trying Desperately to Hold a Day
When I Was Nine-Years-Old

The tourniquet is a tree limb in a photo Where no I goes but gone when the drawl Is staccato cadenced and four corners offer All the walls the world can muster Leave the windows closed From LA to NYC The immured are sliding into history And the wheels will stopping to have seen This happened down the road No sooner known than forget in reaching For another button character seeking

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