THE RULE HAS ACCESS
Not me. I enter from side doors and bend
down quickly. I talk like Ham, and swiftly;
some Biblical paradox made of glory. My
Lord and my God will finish the story.
Tomorrow is the day I will be in uncharted
lands; and I don't know what I'll be doing.
Winter's colder times, back again, shall
be my lone accompaniment : seeing stars
in daytime, wishing the buildings were
me. High above, broad glass; down below
the unwashed mass.
I guess I'll stay a while and watch. I already
know the drill. Those guys with the loud
microphones, proclaiming their streetsides
of glory on a dark Philadelphia street.
What else can I do but park?