by Jerry Ratch
Some girls got out of a cab at 4 a.m. in the morning
yelling, shouting, loud
A door swung open
You could hear her one of them going up the stairs across the way
The cab started back up and drove off
The last thing I heard was a loud retch
The loudest retch I have ever heard
from one angel
But the sprit floated free
You may have a hard time believing that,
but the sprit floated free
I heard it become detached myself
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in Paris, something I heard
Oooooo. I really like this one. I like the sensibility of it..
“but the sprit floated free / I heard it become detached myself”
Something is really spooky and sweet about this.
Thank you so much, Steven!
This is lovely. The contrast between the retching and "the spirit floated free" and the repetitions of that phrase in the title and poem. I agree that there is a sweetness to this piece.
Thank you, Gloria!