Chesty Morgan

as young boys,

we'd skip school with

a pocket

full of change

then take the A-2 bus

to the National Archives

on 9th Street.

we'd spend the day

playing pinball machines

we could hardly

reach.

we'd wander in back to

the peep shows,

until chased out by a man

with one leg.

we'd eat at the diner

on the corner then run out

on the check,

then we'd stand outside

the club, The Blue Mirror

hoping against

hope, that when the door

swung open we could catch

a glimpse of Chesty Morgan's

bosoms.