first of all...happy birthday to a great poet, ally malinenko
die with dignity
they stop on the street
and watch
as the con edison worker
climbs a ladder
up to a streetlight
he begins scrapping away
with a long brush
pushing out old leaves
and other sundry items
that have gotten caught
in there during the winter
people are amazed by this
i don’t know why
i can’t get through them
to get where i need to go
so i stop as well
i watch a man do his work
pushing and scrapping
as more debris falls over the street
there are pieces of twig
falling to the ground
onto parked cars
feathers of all types
paper and dust and plastic
we continue watching
the con edison man
has to work harder
something is stuck in there
he goes at it for a while
those of us on the street can
see the mass begin to move
we clutch our chins and anticipate
soon he has it loose
it falls to the ground
two dried bird carcasses
they look like pigeons maybe
when they hit the ground
they bust apart like a cracker
bits and pieces of their bodies
swirling around the street
void of form and dignity
like sawdust on a barroom floor
when somebody opens the door
on a windy, gray day.
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