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43 NumberTen Nights on end of dreamlessness. Responsible, unresponsive sleep. Three weeks going on years. Hill Street, with no aspirations To graduate or diminish. Only this human rise: six feet, Barely perceptible over a quarter Mile.A hell street to winter on. It begins in general (a general Store) and ends on the strength Of a dead end, that barrier From which no surprise ever Advances. No one comes back From the dead. Not even you. ...

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