NEW YORK (LABOR DAY 1987)





....Central Park
5th Ave. park bench.......





somewhere between
“fuck ‘m ‘all”
and
“I love you”
I
find
my
self


no longer seeking
no longer sought






while
to the rolling roar of thunder and the splat of thick black drops
at the very same moment
in the very same time







the bag lady
a bench or two away

rearranges the newspapers
covering her,
tucks beneath
her tousled head

a callused
elbow,
and
sleeps on




  the dowager
  across the street

  helped into the aging limousine
  awaiting her,
  bows
  her silvered head,

  and disappears
  once more
  behind
  tinted and curtained windows.




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