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17 Living at Street-level (Postcard from Washington D.C.) I sought all over your body a country (our country, mine). I sought . . . While 16th Street ran half crazy with cars all heading for the White House. Feeling my way above exile I sought in your voice accents, sounds of home. The reins lost (we both lost them) for riding our way over exile. 16th Street ran ridden jockey-like by cars all heading for the White House. ...

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