He stood transfixed, silenced by what
sprawled above his head, pushy and
unruly as a junior high classroom.
It shoved him numbly from here to there,
Central Park: Harlem: Times Square. The wet
wind blew snow and umbrellas in his eyes as
But the old ladies always gave a dollar to the
crumpled man with leukemia when
he sang the song that requires no teeth between
subway stops and there was
always a seat available for the fragile, well-wrinkled gentleman with his
pert cap and clear, dripping nose.
Traveling is hard on the bones.
Pic on Flickr by Saint Roch.