mmmcxvi

a brief account of some of my travels

underneath the subway
is the soul/or so I thought/while
filching soldiers at fort dice 
where ice as cold as

Montreal had a heart hot
enough for pizza crust! 
and I didn’t jump ,,,
even with my face

in the sand I’d shiver
with delight at
the pelicans of Boca Raton
or the aluminum tequila

I can say I’ve only glunked 
with a punk from Chalk Bluff ,,,
ah, to remember the birches
cleanly swooning