S'ready for that little sparkler checker
light windowed city rising sideways
out of the great bustling cracked American highway
system rolling wheels over over north-east, until
a three-fourths circle left turn,
against iron bars and factories where
workers arrive in
dead morning 1920s style,
takes me right there (here) 30 minutes past midnight,
not a second late, doors open
engine slowed, beneath glassy stars
and sleeping angels, a
transparent winter's glooming
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