A bit brisk for alfresco
It’s a hat collecting wind
rolling its accumulated treasure
into the corners with a gusto
that takes its pleasure
in creating diaspora
it moves dispassionately
the displaced people that it teases
with the promise of relief in the lee,
just long enough to grasp
the cover that once blown
can never be regained,
and there is beer foam
on your mustache,
that breaks around the stubborn
constancy of your mouth tho,
the wind has watered your eyes
hatless at last, I can see you
now trying to light the cigarette
that the wind will draw down for you
should you succeed,
you will have little chance to inhale
for the wind is enthusiastically
lifting the skirts of the table,
revealing how we sit when
we think no one can see,
legs touching in a late intimacy
that belies the battened down
carefulness of our conversation topside
And there lays upon the horizon
a full breasted dark sailed ship
that approaches obscuring the green view
that on any other day but this
would promise to quicken with breezes and rain
our interest into the circle of amusement
which we would share and launch our laughter rolling
out like the wind as we watched other people
chase their hats.
gentrification
Downtown sometimes hot summer saturday
the streets have emptied as commerce has headed
for the burbs, winos and derelicts curb
their enthusiasm till night chills
as some suns keep one world on ice
one on fire, depending upon the accidents
that pulled them from the cosmic dust
you aren’t entirely in charge of whether
you get the apple martini and the cold sweated
glass in the bar wasting the noon waiting
for the real action to begin
or the shadow of the farmer’s market
dumpster that ferments hotly wholly
anticipating trash day. we mostly arrive every one
full of p*ss and vinegar and it’s a helluva circle when
the one way signs don’t allow for changed minds
and every street name has a place
along its route where truth congregates
like every city has its version of the popular table
where everyone’s cool about where to go
and what to do there, but not clear about what comes
flowing around the corners that turn intersections
into refuges whose names make everyone smile
knowingly about what really goes down there.