At the watered grass, pink
inflatable rafts in all the fountains.
Everything that’s bare is bare. I’ll
take a shot at boxing pigeons over
the pine-cone lawn.
Everybody has a haircut. Food
coma. Bookstore, bar & grill.
All the lights down as the power fails,
sparking resignation.
There’s a patriotic carillon concert
every evening in the perfect sky.
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