MAC ARTHUR PARK
Spring was never waiting for us till
it ran one step ahead
as we followed in the dance.
Between the parted pages
we were pressed,
in love's hot, fevered iron
like a striped pair of pants.
Mac Arthur's Park is melting in the dark
all the sweet green icing flowing down
someone left the cake out in the rain
I don't think that I can take it
'cause it took so long to bake it
and I'll never have that recipe again
I recall the yellow cotton dress
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