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“Pushing Triple Digits” Part I Hot dogs and SchlitzA shot of whiskey to wash it downA stool at the counter, the words, the cookThe customer, the couple in the corner.  ListeningReading heartthrob magazines, looking for the scenesThe traffic in the street, the beat, and the heatSoaking through his shirt on the fourth of JulyFogging upContinueContinue reading “Pushing Triple Digits – New Poem”