i had not taken notice
that there were no flies
in that lobby.
the mail slots are still there.
the tungsten charm of Bogey,
cigars and cancer.
i can smell the sordid gardenias;
when did nature go so wrong?
and i can see the nylons and
the hats waiting for a call.
i sometimes feel that in
1923 on a rainy day
i took a bottle of pills.
ladies were dainty
even then.
Bogey never waited in the
silk upholstered chair
for a girl named Gina
or a Midwesterner
called Claire.
as a matter of fact
if you must know
my business, mac.
i have only passed by the glass
guarding this lobby on the way
to nothing more.

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