Without A Shield
At the Rochester Institute of Technology
while a graduate student
in photography
I met a woman
I’ll call Ingrid Bergman
and fell in love with her
allowing my soul to drift
in ethereal realms
When the time came
to return home to Brooklyn
we spoke seriously of our future
She loved me,
she said,
but also
Gustav Gustafson
and Earl Kip. This information
hurt but she said
all I had to do was hang on
until next summer
when we’d travel together
[...] Read more
poem by Charles Wax
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