Brown  glistening waters jump and roll and crash and chop and bite and kick….Across town another river does just the same….maybe less bravado….

Flying over Whitman’s Grass……Miller’s Air Conditioned Nightmare…….Mailer’s American Dream…..what must they think of us down below….

God’s chosen making deals on a Manhatta  afternoon as goys jog along concrete paths preparing for a week of folly…..Yale is well represented by blondes in cute caps and young boys playing grown-up….

Manhatta is a mistress….a whore who will part her shimmied  thighs for anyone with a buck to spare…..

Cause…she knows….Manhatta knows the ways and the charms to break us all….

Lurking around in dark morning to creepy light when kids of nighttime sledge home to small boxes….closeted lovers….and Vanity Fair dreams wrapped in silver strands and golden bows….

And yet….this on- going misery….sometimes…melencholy…..sometimes madness….and marvelous as well….leads us on again and again and again….

Count on it….