4623. LAMENTATIONS

LAMENTATIONS

The Summer came and went  -  kids yelling and

preening in the park, stupid fuckers fucking in

cars and yellow wagons. As though youth has no

age, it never ends correctly. Now they're parking

Jeeps and Subarus where the bats used to fly;

a half-paved gargantuan submission to fixation

and adolescent growth. Lightning bugs glitter.

-

I walked seven miles just the other day  -  from 34th,

across to Park, diagonal uptown to Sutton Place and

all that up there, higher and higher it seemed. Carl

Schurz Park; all those willowy and old yet walking

people. I've noticed that when nurses and attendants

hold a rich person's elbow, they're always looking

away. Elder care only goes so far, and then it stops,

becomes distasteful, and loses its appeal.

-

Not done yet: and then I walked back, first across

town, over to the westside and all those more

shaggy streets. There the old folks just wither on

benches and die. No one other than a few seemed

really to care. The Zabar's smoked meat counter

counts off all those numbers backwards, and then

calls out names instead of digits anyway.

-

The parasol hooker looked my way. I smiled and

waved her off  -  'had you too many times already'

I said, but she didn't hear my joke.