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it was
a hot day when the goose died.
Sitting on the floor
our bare knees knocking together
sweaty, flies buzzing
we heard the news.
WHY did you do it
the jello is for Jello, not
to lick, making your fingers and tongue
bright pink
The goose is dead, and
the goslings are crying
her feathers
soft and gray
scattered on the ground in the dust
soft like drifting fairy-seeds
We sit
captive on the floor
while mr liles strums his auto harp
we have to sing
this stupid song
so sad
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