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When I walk the street and realize I'm out of fashion--two decades so, maybe more--sometimes I see things as they truly are, or as I imagine them to be, as I imagine they should be, I take stock and chase the angry boys from my closet and smite them with vigor and reproach, hoping to set things right in a fast dance of morality, abstracted from some book that a person loaned me one time on a short contract, hoping to redeem the promise of my vast potential, banking on funds that were never deposited to begin with, counting on pure currencies of proper kinship...well, sometimes...I forgive them their trespasses and wish them well.

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