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The Camel

Rolling dismal clouds,

Grayer buildings,

and a stack of smoke closer than usual...



Here,

Fire escapes bind dirty, white buildings

and laundry dries on-top of shedding fences...



The people roam,

as if they have no place to go,

past graffiti stained walls

and towards the 7-11,



where-above,

a friendly camel smiles down at me.



"who is that" I inquire from the passenger seat, baseball cap fastened tight.



" that's the very bad cigarette camel" my father replies, as we drive away.

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