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"after Harlem,
            it was you,

and the fractured walkways
where people desperately aspired
​
played Bachata
   and made the concrete home...

 &
where the weeds were in remorse
and paradise was a portrait
                  it was you...   
 
barely a hum   in a fetching memory
scarcely a gaze     of yellow glory
 
                it was you      gone."

                                     -excerpt from Bronx Hymn


 
​

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  • Welcome...
  • About
  • Audio
  • Noise
  • Ekphrastic Poems
  • Publications/Awards
  • Interviews