by Andrew Taylor
So unknowingly we stayed above the San Remo
sat across the apartment gazing up at the fire escape
drinking Rolling Rock year previous we stayed in Corso’s
building on Bleecker again unknowingly
take a shoeshine glad to help grabbed a wet shave
clothes Chinese laundry washed
It’s like when the lights go down finally in Zinc tab settled
iced pavements walk home clinging on for dear life
that following his steps down the echoing street
becomes something
to dwell on years later when reading his blues that stem
from pocket sized notebooks
painting passage down MacDougal from the Square
to the crossroads and on into shared histories
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