Downtown Rush
conformity, conformity,
shirt-button pips on dominos.
one stray truth would topple
the whole busy sidewalk of oxfords.
urbanites, cheeks of micro-knots,
stretch into spurs of a bobbing fence.
we are cattle, after all, pedestrian,
roped and herded by internal wires.
dare to laze in the bustle of twill and leather,
dare, for just a moment, to dangle in the crosscurrents,
to be that jostled marionette.
nearby
a single unhoused human
curls at the foot of a dumpster.
is acuity a bipedal piece of trash?
slovenly and unseen, crumpled and unkempt?
it comes easy, the vagabond as guru,
a pill to sugarcoat our perambulatory state.
really, though, it is true,
even a moment out of step
and your shoes become a nuisance,
wayward in the stress-greed march.
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6/26... meh..
11/11/25 ... changed a phrase
12/7/24 ... mods (impossible to work with ..)
10/27/24 ... mods
10/6 ... mods
NYC circa 1996
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