Saturday, October 10, 2009

Rum

Hiding
in your closet of a room, a house
small cars gurgle past
through wet yellow leaves

Across the hall
girls dance and kick
beneath nests of cotton sheets

Above 4th Street
orange tea kettle
screams
fog licks tall ships

New York
a liquor store runs out of rum
Boston is
black

Stirring drinks with
a green toothbrush
both of us trying
to kick habits

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