i was born around here
there were none of these brick
buildings then these antique
shops and wine and cheese shops
old sam had his news stand
right over there he sold
the racing form i'd come
every day and say
have you got the racing
form sam and he'd say of
course i have the racing
form, what else would i have -
there was a place over
there, where that greeting card
shop is, sold hamburgers
and hot dogs it didn't
have a name so we called
it the place with no name
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4 comments:
such a nice, quirky meditation on form and function, function and classification, and so much that slips between.... fine work, as usual.
simply beautiful: my favorite poems are often one person revealing what's lost except in recollection. Memorable graphics as always.
Jeez, Timmy, if it weren't for my broken punctum lacrimae, I'd say this was causing tears to come to my eyes.
(Any old excuse will do, to conceal that fact that
poems
do
actually
still
provoke
emotions...)
tom,
thank you very much. it's always a pleasure
to hear from you. hope you are well these (holi)days.
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