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Boatman’s Elegy

by Michael Amitin

Her hand cold with the death of romance
obligatory touch
we watched the chill settle
like a mountain chipped away
by cheap time-square watch winds
irretrievably sad

Still the flowers roll out
the cards keep turning
quick-peck kisses
morning-mist goodbyes
red heart valentine needle shooting shared history
through our warm nostalgic veins
as dark radio rains throw branches
against the Chopin windowpanes
forever stuck
in this merry soul-mate
long-play quick-riff affair
nightfall sleep cascades

Death Valley molten cliffs
Mr. Fantasy stands stroking his quiff
barking carnival noise
into the oceans of space and joy
that undulate between us
in our king-size ruby-eyed
forgotten sunken ship bed

So bake that candelight dinner
toss that last-ditch lingerie
we’re old war buddies now
purple contented hearts

Copyright © 2018 by Michael Amitin

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