8758. ON THE ELEVATED HIGHWAY

ON THE ELEVATED HIGHWAY

You may never tease me again, lady in

the tower, Fifth Avenue dowager, hunk-tank

of anger and need. I've brought along my

scribbles and my marbles, so you can, with

your nasties, sit and heed. Everything I do

runs backward, you know, and says quite

clearly 'Hal is dead', or 'Nelson's dead'

or something of that forlorn nature now.

-

I used to live just here, on the other side

of fishing from the bridge. We'd find the 

hidden graveyard in the jigsaw puzzle 

pieces, and throw them back into the 

water just for kicks.