Taken from the poem “Grand Concourse”

1

Mommy

when I first met her

had the softest

sweetest face

you’ve ever seen

in this world.

2

You know what I mean.  The dead call us. 

Come on, they say, why waste your time on living.

3

You could live here hundreds of years.

It wouldn’t be enough to live here a lifetime.

4

Thought doesn’t matter, he says to himself, shaving,

only to be here with them for as long as you can,

recognizable.

5

Look at this chair,

Have you ever seen a greater chair that that?

It could be in a museum. 

It could last a thousand years.

6

Holidays coming on.  Her 87th birthday passes.  No presents

      or visits,

except for Doris, on the 3rd floor, who takes her shopping,

sits with her in the park and has a bitter, miserly husband. 

7

It’s the first real beach of the year. 

Look at all the people here. 

8

She’s off to work, perhaps the last first day back after

     25 years. 

Later, her face and small shoulders calm at the kitchen

     table,

standing, reading the bills, choice and charge ahead

and a classroom of new girls and boys.

9

The small dog exits

lowly barking

right

and left

before

stepping out.

10

Who’s drinking tea?

Are you drinking it inside or should I bring it out?

Look at how smooth the street sounds. 

The best times are at night when we sit

in our bathrobes, read and talk.

11

In that house

we could have

looked out

over the world.

In this house

we’re buried

with the rest. 

12

I see you’re dressed up today, she said. 

No, these are my usual clothes, he said. 

I tucked my shirt in, that’s all. 

It’s the way I am.  I just have

a dressed up look.

A dressed up look, she said, leaving. 

See you later, he said, smiling.

13

A howling kid running crazy,

hanging onto a garbage cracker,

a piece of a parent.