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Into town I drove, past the block-long bakery
And tin-roofed tavern, and came upon the river view
Above a neighborhood of double-wides—
dead-ended at the coal mine.
Little town of sharp-eyed men
And dead girls turning up—
For years, we read about you.
These rivers stained the psyche:
Green River and the Cedar.
The Oh in Ohio mourns
and the hiss in Mississippi stings.
Green River sounds like screaming and
Cedar River sounds like edict.
All the rivers conceal and run.
Some take us into them.
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