O should I go & must I go, praise at the big bar
where he felt as if in some suburban zoo,
with ripe animals pondering his exotic dance.
Asking his studies, off mark guesses by a car,
smoke from a rette-cigar. Chairs blocking the loo.
I suppose to have fun one must take a chance.
Saw a well-known poet walk home, said my hi’s,
got my formal invite. I was on the toke & cup,
again, in the car, with my beb, to whom he also said hi,
gave me a slip of something, exchanged goodbyes.
I’ve only this new york trilogy to disrupt
the constant zones I fall into, black tires sigh
all night in the new frost, freezing into the sad shape
of a dropped donut. But that did not deter beb
from walking to buy a hoagie & double-sided tape.
On the way home feeling pity for myself
pinched in the strands of sun, my sleeping leg,
while a great wind carries me wherever.
