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In The Middle of School
Pranksters of my boyhood still lighting off
Fireworks across the roofs of another school day—
Like all of Mexico laughing
As they propagated and made new streams into our
Beautiful delusion—and shot roman candles straight into
Our eyes,
Scarring us with the song that was in their loins:
Not afraid of airplanes, because knowing that, like the moon,
They could steal that too:
Until I found you safely under a bus in a rainstorm
And we made love forever right in the middle of school.
poem
by
Bret R. Crabrooke
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