HANG ME
Over at the trestle, across the
tracks from Channel Lumber,
we were tossing cards against
a wall. No one talked, so set
were we each on winning a
quarter. At ten years old, it's
quite a fortune. It was then
anyway. Nearby ran a dirty
old stream where some dog
came to drink. I watched,
transfixed, and forgot about
flipping cards. I watched
again, and the dog went
over and pissed on our
bikes.
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