I was a person
when cigarettes were cheap and drank
without guilt, chased
the man in the moon dreams: visible ,
possibilty was my friend  existed where
a penny was worth a thought
food was keen  words
sweet as pickle juice on apple pie, eyes looked
in  love sighs,
  the
smooth and soft skin rebounded
with  biscuits ate
if fallen fell without indigesting
buttered side up
all naive, all the fantasies
as reality.