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Gasoline Rainbows MAG
I hate the boys who sit in the street outside my room listening to
their CDs asif no one else has music of their own. I wait until one
day the bass cracksthe ground and they all get sucked up in the
cement or else they drown in thegasoline rainbows that shoot out
of my car when I drive past. Then I'mhappily alone in the middle
of the night, softly scratching my feet togetherwith the grasshoppers
and making a wish on each airplane that flashes in thesky.
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