An abandoned hat on a park bench.
Across the street, a company
That made milk glass Marys
With its windows boarded shut.
The street’s only car with a flat tire;
Its only woman with one breast.
She shuffles endlessly into the horizon
In her shoes with holes in the heels.
The dark buildings encroaching,
An old hat blowing between her legs.
Saturday, March 31, 2007
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