the world is in love with fabric softener,
and I am in love with you, pedestrian player,

and also you, bumbling bike messengers.
do none of you know what strange you are and how

you flit quick as summer in Glasgow?—ay, let’s
hear it for the fateful day the mercury peaked at 78,
how the sky spilled frothy from front loading buildings,
how the broken meat lockers stopped and sighed all together.

 
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