North Lime is the protean spine of our side
of town; starts out all business and like guts,
ends that way; creeps along to quaint houses,
then bars and shotguns; three schools
that might as well be on different planets;
churches that no one knows are there.
Its side-streets peel off like nerves
a few of them straight and clean,
gay dudes and their elaborately painted doors;
others flagellate in stink and weeds, people
who don’t even wonder how it got this way.
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