DO THE MACKERAL
I jumped from the seams of space
into another attire : long coat of
gray matter, hovering over the
land. Haberdasher ravishing
greatcoat superette. That was
another me.
-
Forsooth. My tooth.
-
You, you are the guy; I remember.
Pahked that cah in Harvahd Yahd
and left at a full-tilt boogie. Can't
explain the magic of that one.
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Once before, this town burned down.
A vacation community for NY cops.
Breezy Point. Some hurricane or other
took it away and the gas-lines started
fires. Gone Gone. Gone.
-
Just offshore, the ocean still smiled
at what it had done. Hurricane Caprice,
they should have named it.
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