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[randomly selected from all my photos here]

Metric Spot Check (by Josh Mandel)

I have a natural phrase,
iambic trimeter
that isn't lonely like
the sound my heartbeat makes
recovering from New York:
the rows of screens and brains
and tag-team interviews
that left me pressed and bland
as any business suit.

I haven't eaten lunch
and I could spare an hour
to stare and wander through
Times Square, but I decide
to hail another cab,
my third since five a.m.,
and catch an early flight.
[randomly selected from 21 poems/paragraphs here]

(who the heck... ?)