the poem

i looked all over for you…no-where..gone for good.. never one to stick around…

prayers at St. Xavier’s…visited each station…lit candles…just like we used to…remember that…in the name of the Father…the Son…and the Holy Spirit…

walked ’round Washington Square…bums on benches…protest signs…selfies sent into space…no-longer…magic was missing…words vanished..empty…

and at Union…nothing…junkies walking on stilts…spice-heads floating above… hopeless heading no-where…candy-bar wrappers mixed in with autumn’s paint…no-one had seen ya’….

down by the Hudson…where meditative states took us away from troubles mounting in Manhattan…reading and chanting for inner-peace while plotting the next move…nothing concrete…come- out…come-out

i looked for traces of poetry at The Port Authority…3 in the morning… a tranny said she saw a lyric earlier…but nothing stuck… waltzed down 8th Avenue…nobody called-out…no-one cared….

the poem is gone…never coming back…maybe it found a warm seat on the subway…or…a cool cocktail lounge Uptown…gone is gone…

we’ll meet again…when money’s tight…when a broad breaks your heart…when you’re hungry again…when you’re hungry…

til then…all bets are off…

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