SH

Trudging in the Sands of Singapore

Trudging in the Sands of Singapore

SH

You, thespian, moved

not just into my building,

but down the hall.  Showed

up at a party in a

gold Lemay mini that gave

Lee a run for his

money, yet

his hip-high

banana-sticking-

out-cake did ice the win.

Ben preferred to break

down his own door than

to risk a couch sleep

among such company.  Then

the novel-length text message

we had about the

confusion

you caused to

yourself when first struck

then annoyed, then let loose by

dreamy one,

only to make eyes at an

Irish soft-

eyed wonder, only

to lose out again,

just in time

for Ben to re-enter, so

to speak, whisk

you from Brooklyn to

Boston.  Stay young Q.

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