SO, DREAMY LIKE
The particulate matter which falls
from the sky has no name : or little
of a name to be recognized. In the
haze of day I recognized that face,
but I am starving again. Myself.
-
Trafalgar Avenue that runs into
Passaic Avenue that can bring us
down to Hackensack? Are there
really places like this? Is that the
loathsome river wherein the rude
factories once dumped?
-
I think I am clear : what can we
manufacture here? There's now
nothing left to work with, and I
really must be moving on. I
think I'll try the museum,
They must have a song.
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