AMELIORATE OR
HIDE AWAY
'I haven't come for the angel food cake
or the milk. I've come for blood and
oranges. Maybe. I'll just sit here and
wait, until your baby clothes fit; until
the iceman cometh; until your Hell
freezes over.'
-
Just the other night, along a closed-up
14th Street, two guys were playing a
guitar duet in Union Square Park. I
watched, waiting for which would
sing. Both did, and neither. Some
tune about a dragon, puffing away.
-
A girl came over, wretchingly sick.
She ran into the shadows and puked.
in the bushes. In the nice Spring
flowers. In the bower by the edge.
There was still a rumbling crowd,
nearby, or off on a side street, or
right across the way. I couldn't
see a thing either. Nighttime,
mob-scene, little to care.
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