TOO SHALLOW
IN THE HALLWAY
Once again it's time to paint : the walls are
as shabby as Woolworth's, the floor is rippled
and gray. All along the railings, curled rust-paint
drops. The Spanish lady who comes to sweep, she
does the best she can, and I see her twice a week,
struggling with this space. A lobby, an entryway,
cleaning rags, mops. Life gets too sad with all this
stuff about. Whatever must we do to stay in one piece?
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