My [Lousy] Poem

New York
It rains
Seven years ago
I lived here for seven years
The subway map etched
on the back of my brain
Like the mole on the back of my neck
I can always feel
but never see
I reach for it now
Still there
But the rain washes away
the old story
Replacing it with new skin
I read too much Derrick Brown on the flight over here
And nothing rhymes with Blog World Expo

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