NOT LAMENTING a lament I am forbidden to speak has gone into hiding or left town so when we're out walking it doesn't come up and greet you it doesn't make friendly trouble with casual reminders of all the disturbed friends you strangely kept about you including me whose disturbances never end and in fact make part of a healthy breakfast look they've taken away the street where you once couldn't walk a block without tumbling into five partially unwanted conversations they've revealed the river buried ages ago when the town still thought it could bury things for good but the alleys you loved because of the backs of houses and secrecy are still alleys and not holes in the ground and our tour includes all the things still going on in our lives there is no art outside of where we live and where we live could be anywhere the weather changes for instance the storm clouds piling up west of us as before when the rain passed across my face see the lines it has burrowed
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