at Laguardia anonymously erranded,
to eat street meat, and meet for tea
in Greenpoint or walk under
the shadow of the Empire State Building.
Didn't we stare at each other
length of the life
and read headlines
in faces through
holes in the NY Times?
Well, while I'm here
I'll do the work—
and what's the work?
To ease the pain of living
with poetry.
Everything else,
a drunken dumbdumbshitshow
or death."