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Danny Kaye (b. David Daniel Kaminski)
B. 1.8.13 Brooklyn / D. 3.3.87 Los Angeles
Heart Attack

I was in Georgia
on our first visit home from Massachusetts, where we lived now
Two and two are four
no more for me the shiny classrooms with their kind young teachers nor the kind dark ladies spooning black-eyed peas into a crater on my lunch tray—no
Inchworm, inchworm
in Massachusetts, mean old women, flaking white, conducted each her relic’s reign of terror in the drafty wooden classrooms of the Center School, whose stairwells reeked of coal—coal!
measuring the marigolds
Mass—yes—massed among the strips of frost-browned verdure and cement, endless blocks of wooden buildings clanked their radiator chains like murderers’ ghosts; the rest was graveyards
sixteen and sixteen are thirty-two—inchworm
no sun, no sandy piney woods, no drive-in movies, no red clay, rusty creeks, nor rumored copperheads—not like Georgia
you and your arithmetic
where I swung upon my favorite swing among the set in back of our apartment house, and sang a sad song to myself
you’ll probably go far
home but homesick still; and I could not form the cursive capitals for F or Q or T.

Consolation Site: Oh yeah

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