THIS IS A HARBINGER
A curb no higher than a turtle brings me back to
where I am. Thinking it was higher, I almost tripped.
Down, down, down - reminding me of that feeling
when, as a kid, you'd think there was another step
and there wasn't - or was it the other way around?
I forget - but it almost sent one flying.
-
I break my fall and come back to attention : 'Here' is
where I am. Concentrate on that please. What I remember
isn't much - a little while back, that was Fourteenth, all
this creepy people, buying and selling their junk. Then,
around a corner, maybe that was Pete's, that old tavern
by Gramercy. I can't even remember that now. Find
me a bench here, let me sit. You can keep going,
I'll catch up; don't let me slow you down.
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