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5th Street

Every sidewalk in the world
Leads to the same old building
The pavement blocks lay like crooked teeth
To a tongue of paintchipped wood

The front steps spit and spiral
Into a hallway lit with dusty bulbs
The doorways spill shadows over discolored carpets
The neighbors don't say hello

Every hallway in the world
Leads to the same old room
The doorknob belches, the hinges cackle
The bedpost leans like a tilted headstone

The lamplight grapples through a dirtied shade
The dresser creaks with handles grasped
The mattress's skeleton sags cold and cranky
The electric fan rumbles a constant yawn

Every room in the world
Leads to the same old person
The fingers grab, the dry lips sputter
The limbs leak limply into whishing bedsheets

And from outside in a hovering cube
A square pops dark from its yellowed hue
The radio towers wink on the hilltops
The trees spew leaves over dried up sidewalks

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