So present this moment rings
and silent the history sings
the future is past that brings
All of His Story.
it's one thing, you know,
to walk to work in summer
factor in windchill
five degrees, flat tire, cold feet
can of soup in coat pocket
White-knuckled squeezing
the engine mutes its cheap talk
today, we walk the street
counter-culture fan
die hard shine bright drum loud
but
will the whistle blow?
moo goo gai pan plus
woody allen rehash
there
my cue to exit
leaving lunch early
walk away from putrid
mouths
i would rather work
wandering wonder
not consumed but curious
do they see, you think?
seventh floor to sidewalk size
i start to stop dodging eyes
her -- in his duster
him -- camos and combat boots
they walk, dodging bikes
sometimes far apart sometimes
clinging to curbs for dear life
crowded restaurant lines
a cashier watching, steady
i keep talking guilt
i see and hear her say "bye"
over the noise. why? walk out
rush into lobby
out of the elevator
waiting, a stranger
5 o'clock shadow at 2
first impulse: "what brings you here?"
like i've known them all
all my life -- or they knew me
angels unaware?
"do right. do" -- it's silent, but
they nod and show it, knowing
so sweet these melancholy walks,
and days that smile on yesterday.
and tomorrows that brag and talk,
but tough is finding this winding way.
all your broken shards
will, quite soon, begin their reel:
sweet kaleidoscope.