787 12 5
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That some adults believed the drill would save/
us from the blast of fusioned hydrogen//
amused us as we quietly curled along
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66100
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The steam and odor of teenagers coated with subwoofers spitting dirty, dance playlists filled our cafeteria. The walls were painted by lights that regurgitated the colors of our glow sticks—the neon greens, blues, purples, and oranges. There was more of
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