Wednesday, June 26, 2013

4498. APPLECORE

APPLECORE
The fat lady says 'This is Perth Amboy.' (I wished
she had sung it instead  -  then I could leave). As it
is, the old ferry slip, which I remembered from when 
I was a kid, had been repainted but was then wrecked 
anew by the storm. The nearby marina had been torn 
upside down. Every boat on its side, wreckage and
ruin down the line  -  the old brick facade of a building
or two was just peeled and fallen down to the water.
One or two fancy ladies  -  however that happened  -  
were still coming into the yacht club. Diners must dine
and be seen  and apparently their money already had
fixed up the place. Not much else could be said :
the magical lantern of device and desire, 
working, as always, together again.

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