SHOULDERING
THIS MATTERHORN
Sometimes, yes, there are times,
I just want to scream. I do want
to curse and befoul the atmosphere.
Passing by a sunlit day on some
Princeton passage, seeing nothing
at all : the new round tower by the
old train station. An offense to my
eyes, and faux. I remember my
memories wrapped up in nothing.
Then the girl, with the tee shirt
on hold, she walks by saying only
what words cannot say; her shirt,
something about the Jersey Shore
or girls who like to blow bubbles.
Another, with a dribbling hat on
a bicycle rack. And then all those
people, going to see a play. 'Travesties'
what a name for the place and the day.
(No, no, you foul virgin, I want to
hold nothing at all).
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