Monday, October 16, 2006

My Market

Is down on Broad again, it's roof is breathing skyward. The joists span east to west, burn and ache like ribs is winter. Don't ask me about the basement. Should you stutter by on the sidewalk, on your way to inquire about a cash advance, you may want to come in for a lime juice. The lights are out at night and this ship has moored. Clay Market is brave and hopeful.

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