poem of the day 01.08.10

there has to be a word for feeling like this

passing the parents
dragging their children
to school
the children looking
like limp dummies
in the glare of the pregnant sun
i weave around them
brushing off all comers to the side
they wobble and stumble
it feels good
but not as good as cutting
that brunette in the line
at the bagel joint
taking my time just
ordering two plain ones
and a small coffee
with fat free milk and
a touch of sugar
or how i jumped on the train
without waiting for other people
to get off
making elbows and faces
but none of that
was nearly as fine
as absolutely beautiful
as coming upon that steep staircase
and the blonde leaning over
with her bony ass
her face burdened with two children
lifting and grunting
trying to get a fifty pound baby carriage
up the steps
nothing was as good that day
as winking at her
and breezing past them
running up the steps briskly
into the bright blue afternoon
of a frigid january, tuesday,
with nothing else to do
but find a place
to order a scotch and water for lunch
and read italo svevo
to the sound of light music
coming out of a hidden speaker box.