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 hot heart
nice enough for 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 an aluminum tequila

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