Somewhere, Under the Rainbow
The ghost of Judy Garland
Is visible at night:
Amphetamine-white phantom
Floats through the moon-mist light.
The Emerald City’s toppled,
The yellow bricks are dust,
And Dorothy’s dead in Kansas;
Tin Woodman’s gone to rust.
The ghost of Judy Garland is audible as well—
New York, New York’s her kind of town—
Manhattan-angel’s Hell.
10-92
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