I stroll over to Ocean Drive
closd to cars for the festival
on one side Deco facades
outlind in neon
on the other booths selling trinkets
& everywhere people
suddenly framd by palms
her face as it was in 1933
everybody's favorite gold digger
her face on a huge screen
in the park beside the ocean
a curve of people under the Miami moon
transfixd by Joan Blondell
I want to whoop or weep
at such a perfect moment
I embrace myself
then walk alone down an alley
to my hotel
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