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sing a new song, to the mechanic

on the side of a dirt brown road.  he is

under a blue truck

thinking about his sick children.  all of them

are ill, the eldest, the youngest, even the

middlest.  they are sick from the

bananas.  the slime from the

atmosphere drips down into his

mouth.  the engine is sick.  the hands are sick,

his finger nails are sick.

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