Hoboken with Martha and Robin
Darcy and I lived on the second floor, Martha and Robin's place was on the top, The Caniglias were by the front door, The apartment was old. Things were alop. Is there such a thing as a hidden saint? A beacon of goodness in a fallen world? Well maybe there is and maybe there ain't. I think Martha was a goddess kept furled. We moved to Newark, to the back of beyond, Darcy and I gave up our New York dreams, Martha helped lift us up from our despond, Painted our new bedroom in tans and creams. Do I wish I could go back to change time? No! Martha, your life is a perfect rhyme.