by Lynn Strongin
TINNED, canned shrimp would be fineMy life book-ended by war:
In between, a rich shelf life: In my prime, what I really want is reassurance: it’s path-dependentI smoked a Swedish cigarette for womenWent out, bought a bottle of stout Got thinlike Twiggy. Imagined Ziggy.Imagined wearing a backpack in a wheelchair:
went to two coffeehouses: one hard, up two steps, had to be carried backward: one easy: there I met you who dropped a literary name: One played to win but other ways you lassoed me; still do in our eighties: it’s not over but in late swing, the party done. A rogue wave has come.