He stands like a weathervane
/thrusting a finger
at the crowd./Business men wet their pants/with
joy./Flashes of light./then
shadow./The hoopla,/the
sheer, unapologetic
nerve;/that ostentatious
Fuck you/smile. While the
residents on Orchard
Street/go about their day,/
shopping at Food
Town,/paving roads, taking
their children/to school,
living, dying.
--Jason Irwin
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