It was colder than a
New York winter
the power lines were
humming beneath a
lifeless sky
soft jazz was spilling out
into the street from a
downtown *******
I carry these poems like
loose change
she said
I prefer dancing
but my legs are getting old
anyway ..
I’m a much better writer
do you think my poems are good?
I don’t know
I said
I haven’t seen you dance …
Clay.M