Aesthetic Realism Looks at New York City: Poetry
O THERE WERE BIG RED BUILDINGS
SOMEWHERE IN MY CHILDHOOD
O there were big, red buildings somewhere in my childhood and I shall
never forget them: I cannot forget them.
So far, far away, childhood: stir of forgotten things; sad things, dim
things; memories of buildings slanting to a moon....O there
are buildings now which bring to me my childhood.
From Quintillions (NY: American Sunbeam Publisher, 2005)