Watching winter rain
through a restaurant’s window—
forgetting the rest
Here’s another man
broken from the busy world
looking much like me
Like Kerouac’s moon
this December sliver is
“the toe nail of God”
*
Roaring lions mute
in the rough granite moldings
of an old building
That ancient face
nesting in an old palm tree
seems to be weeping
Springtime in the park—
life could be an orgy,
but why is it not?
*
Limousine chauffeur
more poised and handsomely dressed
than his passenger
Clubfooted pigeon
eases right between my feet—
plucks some fallen meat
Sitting in lotus
on a downtown bench at lunch—
socks with stupid names
.
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