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ROADSIDE TOWN A lone dandelion flush with yellow underneath the frayed billboard announcing the town as if it were still a movie star, but then: giant ice cream cone made of string lights, unplugged, still as a chapel, a few splintered picnic benches arranged like pews around the take-out stand; boy standing on a pillar of milk crates behind the chain-link fence in his cape made of bed sheet flapping checkered flags like a hummingbird as if he were Neil Armstrong in sight of the moon as if he could make the cone pulse in the milky sky.
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