Monday, June 23, 2014

poem of the day 06.23.14

washington square park
in the early birth of the summer

americans love the sun so much
yet none of them are sitting in it

we try to find something in the shade but it is hard
with all of the other sun gods and goddesses
fanning themselves off beneath the thick trees

and there is music, of course
swing dancing and someone playing gershwin on piano

the young are tanning themselves
all healthy bodies and miserable downturned faces

i feel just like henry james
and you dear, you can be edith wharton

we’ll sit here escaping slivers of sun
eating halal food and drinking water

as two girls in short shorts crowd our space
to try on high heels, plucking their ukuleles

mabybe we can find out what it is
the people love so much about these ninety days

we’ll watch three legged dogs shit in flower beds
and little brats on scooters take down senior citizens
while their parents laugh and take photos of the arch

we’ll take the propaganda fliers
from the two ladies in rainbow-colored umbrella hats
if they offer them

shake our heads at the ubiquitous joggers
sweating away their souls in this heat\

break the rules and toss falafel and rice to the pigeons

because what do rules mean
in the early birth of the summer?

as the ice cream and coca-cola people stroll by
in american colors and baseball caps
with their dumbs smiles and confidence

patriots making the most of their weekend

letting us all feel like winners
once again this year.


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