cold stoners rush unlooking
into labs' paws;
Washington takes her yelps and pistachio drips alike - mid-August, please.
is the moon just a streetlight?
and is it still movie night here by the pier?
couples gently whisper opinions over spaghetti puttanesca, drop by drop,
like Tony at the counter with $2.50 in dimes, trying for a Sapporo.
Leila must already be dreaming of back-to-school, if Mom convinced her to bed yet.
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