Curtains forcing their willagainst the wind,children sleep,exchanging dreams withseraphim. The citydrags itself awake onsubway straps; andI, an alarm, awake as arumor of war,lie stretching into dawn,unasked and unheeded.
by Maya Angelou
And thus the people every year in the valley of humid July did sacrifice themselves to the long green phallic god and eat and eat and eat. T...
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