So where's the poetry?

The first time I'd my own apartment

Was in New York in sixty nine.

So, where's the poetry in that?

The great guy I sublet the flat from,

Bruce, died in Chile in eighty three.

Google said: "In doubtful circumstances"

The first guests who stayed with me, then 

Were Christine and Alan, both Brits.

Christine died years ago of cancer

So, where’s the poetry in that?

New York City's so full of life

That death spills over its edges

Bruce Choppin arranged the flat for me

My own place, my own space, 

In New York!

I passed the flat on to Sami Al Banna

Who had friends from Palestine.

Sami's still alive.  He's from Iraq

And may I add that Sami had LPs…

Iraqi monks chanting Christian hymns

Civility born of antiquity

Never having read Cluny Brown

Got feedback on a first novel from Knopf

“Make it a short story”.

Dick Russell © Richard M Russell

                       2024