Turned on Down Street

Things that turn cold.
To help you. On your way.
I am in the back half of the forest.
Where the radios are still playing.
I hadn’t known. The forest is facade.
Stagecraft. The trees props. The birds
do not know they are script.
Extras. Background artists.
The radios high in the trees. Nailed there.
The fruit is heavy with the hands that hold it.

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