"We live in an old chaos of the sun."
Wallace Stevens
Schoolgirls in glittery tops glide scooters
down cracked sidewalks. A yellow mustang
bumps bass and speeds along the curvy
lakeshore, followed by the rumble of seven
Harleys. Everywhere, there's music—laughter
radios bird-song—and dancing—two-step tango
Harlem Shaking. We move back outdoors, drunk
on sunshine after so much indoor abstinence.
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