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The year fades out like a victrola winding
down,
in mono, an aging starlet echoing against the grey light.
Time is driving too slowly in front of me, in a silver Kia,
dark green stripe, spoiler, Midwestern short gray hair,
complaining. Time turns into the drive through
at Wendy's, won't pull up enough for me to reach the box
and order. She counts out every penny given back in change,
and forgets Her drink, pulls out into traffic,
cuts off some guy in a muddy truck. The starlet fades up,
I'm late back from lunch. Fries too hot, chicken strips already cold.
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