MY DISTAFF LONGING
Two sides to every picture goes a long way to
explaining. The mirror has a back, and it reflects not
a thing. I'm here in the Jumble Shop, at the corner of 8th,
walking in both dreams and memories alike : when you
were still here, when the world was alive, when meanings
were cautious and coy. Oh, how I loved just being.
-
Now, some guy has a junked Pontiac heaped at the curb.
No one wants this stuff any longer, and even the stores
at the edge of the street stand mostly vacant and cheap.
No more Pallazo, no more Wilentz. No more Madame
Rienzi's. It's all over now, Baby Huey.
-
I want to wander and just look at glass - the windows
of another age. A time when I could just talk and just
go on, no mattering and no one cared. I lit a match and
cursed the dark - or I staunched the dark and cursed
the match. Dizzying arrays of everything else; and
the world is vast arrayed against our possibilities.
-
I call you out now. Come. I am here.
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