70 Year Magazine Archive

Remember, you don’t call him a “movie reviewer.”

by Richard Minim

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vices, unisex saunas (“Ask about the Switcho”), and “your own personal date book, lists 100 beautiful girls. We deliver the book to your hotel by appointment, in less than one hour. Cost $25.00.” At one massage parlor, I am told, police found three elderly men, on three successive mornings, dead of heart failure in the parking lot.

And on the beach, two recumbent figures have an embrace. There’s not much flesh left; the hams are weak. Almost black, veterans of sunlight, angular and harsh together as an African wood carving: forms that might sing to lords and ladies of what is past, or passing, or to come. No wedding ring nor the scar of one marks her third left finger. Condominiums have 24 hour medical service and VD is right up there with arteriosclerosis. As their promiscuous northern children cohabit— it is well known—the aged shameless find relationships crepuscular and illicit in Miami Bich. The carvings kiss. Out at sea, two tugs shepherd a mammoth oil rig along. The rig is square, four-towered; it seems a fortress. What passes is what will come, sailing hugely past Byzantium. □

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