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memory moves in a circle, like a
bicycle chain around a crankset. as a child i'd
pedal mesmerized by the links spooling over the
teeth of my single speed, coaster brake Rollfast.
never rode in a group this large, most of the
time i freewheeled solo, a feral child
ricocheting from ballfield to friends' to candy
store and most joyous of all the beach, just
minutes from home down atlantic ave to great
south bay, where we dug up clams with our
feet and bought boatloads of fries at Flo's....
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