Author Carl Rakosi A man is fiddling with his matchboxwhile he talksexactly as I saw himthirty years ago.I have his tweed coat on(I can feel the coarse fabric),his domestic habits,the abstract look in his eyes.Now to break outof this straightjacket! Rate this poem Select ratingGive it 1/5Give it 2/5Give it 3/5Give it 4/5Give it 5/5 No votes yet Rate Log in or register to post comments