It felt as things did in
the New World,
the New World,
a smell of fresh paint, possibility,
wafting through window cut-outs,
wafting through window cut-outs,
the taste and Spring fizz
of Coca-Cola on ice.
of Coca-Cola on ice.
There was no old stone
to these wining places,
to these wining places,
bare a huff-puffing gasoline
leakage down sideports, down blindly,
leakage down sideports, down blindly,
to water that cut loose a
churning, a restless sense for home.
churning, a restless sense for home.
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