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Comments about Wolf Wandering
I walked down jazz alleys rolling cigarettes
and a head filled with typewriter dreams,
silently praying to sidewalk Gods
for the inhaling of coconut rum,
Chicago and Havana,
minds heavy with thoughts of steel and uranium
in the years before cold war, red missiles,
and the rusting sickle of Russian terror,
seeing dusty men gathered outside newspaper stands
waiting, plotting, in quiet conversations about bombs,
and in America, small bankers with obscene mustaches
fingering money with a capitalist fix, primarily out
of silk lined jackets of men who ...