THIS ISN'T HAPPENSTANCE
The rain fell on my head, from beneath the awning
at 27 W47th, I walked out. Beseeching no one for
nothing, I set out not thinking of a thing at all.
Collar goes up when the neck gets wet.
-
Uptown just a bit, still wet, still raining, I entered
the area of the Museum frontage - two 'swingle'
girls, walking fast, as if every care in the world
just then was chasing them. Oh MOMA!
To see a Matisse again.
-
I used to love delicious ice cream; now I
love a good coffee. I speak to no one,
mostly, and no one speaks to me.
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