Our bus cleared the overpass.
Scent of manure fills nostrils
as gold fields flank the road
far as youthful eyes espy.
Out to Pioneer: a square, sparse structure
of three stories, solid as a Cathedral
without ornament, featuring dully
tiled hallways with water fountains
made too high for children.
In classrooms a tricolored rag
hung over a prominent corner
we pledged ourselves to each morning.
Afterwards, from steel vents
above baseboards, (glittering grates radiant as sin)
warm fires of hell
conveyed the quickened breath
of diligent devils to all.
When the heat shut off
everyone, in sacred silence, knew
death's sombre polity was nigh.
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