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by Paolo Mirando | 29 Nov 2006, 0:00
Street: as he passed a couple walking home with grocery bags, the man said zooom, speeding, or speedy, and he said that's right, and at the light he crossed contrary to the big red hand and turned halfway through to say, see, indeed, I run red lights too.
Kitchen: he cracked two eggs and threw one into the toilet, the other into a hot pan over butter, to flip, fold over cheese et epinards, and salt to taste.
Balcony: he wrote letters on paper airplanes and flew them down from the fire escape, into the rain, onto the puddled road below.
Parlor: he morted himself petitely at his desk with his headphones on into a tissue and promised never to do it again, and did it again and cried, and cried again shaving in the shower but for a different reason.
Pillow: and as he slept he dreamt of empty threats, and woke refreshed, a little duller.
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