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Bilofsky "21 Ellen Bilofsky Ride Back from Town It's 1954 and In the back of the rattling pickup truck the Boys bounce with delight at Each bump of the long road up the mountain, Past the tethered bull we City children call Ferdinand, while I Sit sulking in the closed cab Stuck to the split plastic seat with Ice cream and sweat and something more, Sandwiched between The driver's unfamiliar smile and My aunt's jiggling thighs Spilling from their shorts on the Hot car seat of summer. Already in my brief life, I have failed To mount the fringed sidesaddle perched Like a balloonist's gondola Between the sad camel's swaying humps For the short, exotic ride around the zoo. Watching the boys joke and poke Each other in that aerie perch, I think Perhaps my shape is not suited to flight. Leaning for comfort On my aunt's too solid flesh, I feel how it weighs me down And stops me soaring And swear I will never be that real. But. ...

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