AT THE FANCY RAIF RIVER
I hate playing cards, and I hate those who
play; it's so out of the ordinary boring to see.
In the alcove of a little restaurant on
MacDougal Street, at the alley, there used
to be a reproduction of Cezanne's 'Card
Players' hanging. I saw it near every night
as I passed, for my doorway in the Alley.
MacDougal Alley was considered a big deal,
and even though I was a bum, my artschool
situation there got me in - with the big guys.
I slept in the basement, where I'd been allowed
to make a little room. I never saw so much money
around - rich girls who pee'd money, rich guys
who smoked it for cigars. It was all OK for me,
living like that. No one bothered me, and I
never bothered them. I used to pass that painting
and pretend I was once as rich as them, any of
them, and had lost it all in a lousy game of cards.