Bridge To Manhattan
the dude from Tennessee
the roaster summer of ‘94
told me as he snapshotted pugilists
walking the slatted footway to Manhattan isle:
“if i have the chance to take the photograph again - well…”
and, then, Pikes
the dancefloor of 20/30 years hence
characters from a novel i’d pen
playing out their familia intrigue
by the pool: farcical, rabeleasian, all the rest of the quotidian ruin and rack routine stuff;
for:
there is more to you than you realise:
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