Month: September 2018

A petty theft

There was a Polaroid of me From nineteen sixty eight Hair down to shoulders Lennon mutton chops Puffing a dubious cigarette Unearthed years later In a shoebox of fading photographs Funny…I had lectured my only son On the evils of booze and dope And, of course, He was the finder And the keeper (I learned) […]

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