Picket: Lines, Fences
With outside noise boxed
In its own wilderness
I wait inside, first in line
For some serendipitous
Round and round
Theme park ride
I'm the white lap cat
That came out of nowhere
Stunning -- Hungry
Tossed from a seeming abyss
In a vast motel
I'm the Canadian quarter
That filled your icebox slot
An undetected foreigner
With a future just as uncertain as the blessed rest
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