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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