Hunting a Scavenger

5:16pm, Friday, I was there.
Strand poetry section.
You were not.

No one just sits on a couch 
In this town;
I forgot.

The pipes are hissing.
A cat is meowing.

After a cold Revel ride
over the Pulaski Bridge,
I give up for good.

Tomorrow is a new day,
a new place, an old place.

Come to comedy tonight
that is good for you.
Cobra Club. Bushwick.

I don’t know how
to give up.