Wednesday, May 6, 2009

porch-sitting on 23rd street

we can smell the alcohol
over the musty air
right through the humidity
and suddenly
we emerge from conversation
to remember the time.

you found the four poorest
kids in oklahoma
porch-sitting long after
establishments closed
and our coffee cups ran dry –
we manage three dollars
toward your train fare
or more likely
another flaskful
of that perfume.
we being to gather our things.

in gratitude
you perform magic tricks –
succeeding only
in making a box of cigarettes
disappear.
look how late it is . . .

1 comment:

KL said...

I LOVE THIS.