Poem by Mark Tulin
De Niro Upstairs On the third floor lives a charismatic young man
with De Niro good looks, a full-length leather coat
and the fortunate woman who won the lottery
to sleep with him. His headboard bangs, the bed squeaks and squeals
like a train whistle blowing at midnight.
Their passion and sweaty embrace
penetrates my room, saturates my underutilized body. The lady of the
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