It was the feast of passed-away icicles, no doubt.
Happy children popped balloons one by one at the plaza.
I couldn’t remember the names of the colors
and thought that the sun had a name too,
each quarter as well. Fat painters
played soccer with a Swiss Ball in the church.
The celebrants were prone to wear t-shirts inside-out,
although this was strictly against the law.
They liked to drink rum, tequila, brandy, red wine
with boiled socks and fried souls of vultures
till all their hats fell into the creek.


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