Sunday, January 13, 2008

Central Park

homelessly and breadless is the day i
spend horizontal in Central Park, keeping
time inefficiently by my whiskers
and forgetting (or never knowing) the

day like a wanderer, each morning
bringing with its eyelid-penetrating sun
also a likelihood of starvation;
if not starvation then freezing (in winter)

or heat stroke (spring, summer). i could never
read. i watch billboards and stifled faces,
each so wildly opposite they soon become
one face. and at my next dawning I shall wake

again, and something move within me as
a statue scattering pigeons, for each
day newly given from God i am blessed
with an unearned sufficiency of


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