3456. WHAT IS THIS TRIVIAL MOMENT?

WHAT IS THIS 

TRIVIAL MOMENT?

(AND WHO ARE YOU?)

I secretly pine for your open leather coat - with

nothing beneath it, I know you will stand for

hours just to show me your breasts. The posture,

well, really, who cares? Behind you, that sovereign

wall where the locals have painted pictures of flowers

and greats  -  civil rights, jazz, and television faces.

Off to the right, the underpass where the local trains

pass : a total Philadelphia of lying eyes and broken

zoos; painted murals and paid-up dues. The Masons

and the Mummers, somehow all together rolled as one.

-

(One day the shopping cart lady came up to me and

said simply 'I need some money for things.' Made total

sense to me and, though I gave her a mere fifty cents,

I felt she had it coming. I said 'don't tell my your blues,

lady, I got enough of my own since you came to town.'

She laughed, and cried, and then laughed again. Goes

to show, you never can tell. I asked her to tell me about

William Blake. She recited the Auguries of Innocence

back to me by heart and said I should try just as well).