Museum Of The City Of...Iv Poem by Morgan Michaels
Museum Of The City Of...Iv
I doubt it
though I couldn't rule out any of the above.
The picture tells no tales.
But it's probably something simpler-simpler and more routine:
A gin-soaked pleasure boater gone missing and overboard?
A simple suicide?
We shall never know, we, too, being in 1979
frozen in the throes of sultry youth
dozing in a hammock,
under the elms,
just trying to catch some rays.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/26/2024 5:57:42 PM # 1.0.0.1119
