city twilight
by the slow traffic
he played his guitar
in descending sevenths and diminisheds
down in jazz-skuffle beat
up in the breeze
————w(O)rmholes________________________________|—–
being wormhole: crumpled / notebooks / at the end of a gentle retreat
breeze wormhole: Jean Miller kissed Salinger
city wormhole: where the real action // always is
guitar wormhole: day off
music & traffic wormhole: 1959 –– MANHATTAN –– 2012
passing & twilight wormhole: new year’s eve 2014; train up to London to / walk the bridges across the Thames, and / listen to the voices say it is, and was, like, / but get back home before the fireworks / obliterate it all in the emptying twilight
This puts me on the porch of a brownstone in Harlem on a summer night. Sweet.
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