A Meeting in Manhattan
I'm waiting for Frederick Nesson to meet me. He'll be here in the morning. After all these months. I've been infatuated with him since I heard him read his work at the Select Poets Association on Broome Street. I've watched him leave with his plump blonde girlfriend for three months. A girlfriend ... why should that bother me? Wives and fiancees never have.
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Fiction and Illustrations by Sandy DeLuca
I took the train in from Queens. It's just about a week before Christmas. It's early Friday afternoon. It's my birthday. I rented a hotel room in Times Square. I'm going to spend the weekend. Tomorrow. Saturday. Frederick says he'll join me.