loses its tune

trash dash: manhattan iii

behind me a college student tries to convince a young girl to elope

the ritual of the second drink —

demulcent for a moment —

the argument loses its tune

like a good many dinners in so many illegal places

another cold night and the illusion of gin

central park forms endure speeches of electric illumination —

translate a scroll into a new language —

he sits with his arm around her

winks on the gloaming

our ears swathed around music —

plangent notes constrict the frigid night

“And bring back the smell of turf for the burning. Of her. Of me.”

— Fanny Howe / “Margo”

About istsfor manity

i'm a truncated word-person looking for an assemblage of extracted teeth in a tent full of mosquitoes (and currently writing a novel without writing a novel word) and pulling nothing but the difficult out of the top hat while the bunny munches grass in the hallway. you might say: i’m thee asynchronous voice over in search of a film....
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