mining out the garbage
of trash fires
like violence
your lamp was
of seven year old camps
jars of bugs and the grass in them
as habitat
and the nightwear of sisters
advertising disney
staying up with the fathers
too cold to sleep
We left CD-R's
and the Daily News
and Health Valley pancakes
on the line
our sparks made your wage
and your living was
our litter
the train intrudes
a downed lighthouse screeching
the rats scatter
then, a rush of drunkards
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