"It's about words, and words are all I have…"



Just about every person  young  old  male

female  sane + insane   was sucking on a big

cig today   It even looked like they were

protecting said cigarettes   not from the

whipping wind   but from those of us who

wolflike crouched  on streetcorners  waiting


Even indoors where smoking is prohibited I

saw a mother with a croaking baby  light up

aggressively   The intake  a seeming last breath

Croak went the baby   croak    Coffee clatchers

looked confused   I dashed out and passed a sign

that said: Try to be one of the people on whom

nothing is lost  (Henry James)


Though likely better if I did miss some of the minutiae

The sordid ceremonies of  urban life in Winter   Ditto the

alleyways full of limping dogs  +yesterday’s spittle





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