I was back on the streets
I
pulled my cap
down
over my ears
crossed
the avenue
into
the bed of traffic
zigzagged
and forgot myself
the
snow sneaked
under
my scarf
no
time, no rest
nothing
but the news
and the news was bad
in
each of my footsteps
a
grip, a breath
glass,
concrete
I counted my steps
palms blanched
a
purple fire swirling
in
my guts
and
the fire
spoke
across the dark table
of
night and sea
of
what collected in shadows
and
pools and puddles—
the fire sang
the
greatest advertisement of all:
the
world is wide open
and
they’ve discovered another day
in
the week and this day is for you
and
you alone
reach
out
I'm
reaching out, too
I
tell no lies
reach
out
I'm
reaching out, too
and
it's true no
fingerprints
exist
and
it's true odd creatures
tread
the foam
and
it’s true this city
sputters
and sparks
and
it's true the world
is
burning
and
it’s true we'll dance and sing
with
wanting hands
across
the silence
oh
can’t you see that I am
a
child wiping away the tears
standing
up
speaking
I
speak to you
I
have no one else
I
speak to you
- Andrew Condouris 2015
Andrew Condouris is, by his own confession, a zen monk who drives a car for uber. He lives in New Jersey.
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