Listen 
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tonight
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passing by little saint pat's church on mott street's people filled sidewalk my untenured fingers slip into your tight blue jeans back pocket your arm around my waist moving south towards chinatown you stop us wrap me in your enabling arms hold us motionless for a minute or so at canal street we eat stir fried vegetables drenched in a ginger sauce drink lots of hot leaf tea from thick lipped porcelain cups escorted by our impulses later at home where crowds are invisible we play our music requested by the moment |
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Janet Cannon |
