the brilliance of washington square on its lunch hour


it is ninety degrees and there are boys in green T-shirts, green!
dogs on blue leashes! girls in white skirts & everybody’s holding
something. a pen. a child. a bottle of water & other things
to throw away. they are carrying newspapers
which will later find their way beneath our feet & this
the Styrofoam lunch container will outlive me
almost forever, perhaps forever.
we will fill the land full
with white cups and bodies.

those white skirts were my idea, you know. now
everybody’s wearing them. i had wanted to seem
athenian. i knew nothing of history.

i dress in marble; i am the ruins
of my once self. the pigeons
look hopeful and the man playing jazz
sax at the fountain
is terrified. i am amazed!
i know what to say. it is yes. yes!