Mannahattas, always new, bold, bright,
Mannahattas, Gotham?
We traipse to Mannahattas, trailing an interstate highway system trace, right down to Broadway,
Theatrical, mystical, magical, Magi gift, spiffy, in New World parlance synecdoche precisely for theatrical, mystical, magical, for
A new world open for speculative vista ventures, adventurous exploitation, or whatever comes our way. As if Broadway, streets paved with gold, would unfold, unfold in gimlet night, a neon cry, to rectify, the doddering of the old. Their mealy mouth, their gunshot illumined under limelight, the gunshot wound, illumined under limelight, and maybe, there on Broadway, a puritan in the front row, sandwiched between two dykes (NYC, once known as New Amsterdam, has many dykes) shrieks out a code, a Hayes code,
Throwing a wet blanket on the whole “affair”. But this is probably a custom of puritans, as they came over on the Mayflower, which was not the Queen Elizabeth, not a luxury liner, with starched white sheets, prepped in a dryer.
Spam of Human Affection 
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