Streetcar's clanging bells, fizzling electrical arching cable. Hill ahead, town on horizon. Carefree males, my brothers three. Long sleeve shirts in summer breeze.
I have been dubbed as 00Dot, Sister of three spies
Attached to them like handle to hoe, Tag along spy am I.
Mr. Rankin's drugstore is in sight, Lurking behind the canned goods and nails - Comic Books! Just waiting to make flight.
They unbutton their sleeves and to my surprise I see, Hairless young arms twitching from fright.
Batman, Dick Tracy and Captain Marvel
Will live no longer in Rankin's stand.
Ms. Bezak works the counter
Her spectacles fall down her silo nose
She glares at the three, oh, dear me, does she know?
I will wait and wonder just outside.
Where are they now? These brothers three?
In the clubhouse on Martin Hill so high.
Slick, brown linoleum floor
Clean as a new piece of glass
Swept and readied for their great task
Comic Books at last!
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