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The Child Revolution
Bang.
A nail in the marrow.
Rivet, rivet, clank.
Higher!
Rectangular skeleton for building.
Bone skyscraper.
Scrape, scratch the sky,
The cloud,
Pierce the sun, yellow ball,
Hold it like a thumbtack
Against the wall.
Growing.
The parents on ground
Look up with wonder
And awe.
Will one fall?
From such a distance!
Tsk!
Imagine the bloody splat!
They hope a bit.
It would be at their own level,
Instead of up high,
Above their heads.
The nerves and veins run through.
The skin covering.
Larger.
The walls are done.
Now what do we do, they ask.
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