9 East 71st Street could serve as a hangout, and not just for pervs.
Walt Whitman himself who stood on Mannahattas, grooving, and at least registering the aborigines– their music was hard to hear– maybe to pave the way for the chants coming off the slave ships,
Black keys on the piano, ebonny, ebonics, Mahoggggany, young people, full of potential, wanting to dig in and feel a potential
A potential of love.
Spam of Human Affection 
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