It’s not so unusual
that one-year-old boys
still in strollers in subways,
become so enamored & obsessed
with their own face,
a picture of them, frozen
on their mother’s smartphone,
Then they see you and hum with delight,
like any young man would.
Nor is it too strange
for an older young man (20s or so)
to glide on his skateboard
towards Astor Place,
wearing a full-body Spiderman cosplay suit
in over 80-degree weather;
his girl, who walks behind him for support,
wears a black t-shirt with all
the famous bearded Duck Dynasty stars
smiling pensively, all in a row,
as she walks along with her Spidey,
her long, fizzy, hair flying.
Outside of Van Leeuwen’s,
another lady, who’s not so happy,
as if she was a fallen amine hero
defeated at the Battle of the Moon;
her hair straightened and dyed
first platinum then baby girl pink,
her eyes closed by perfectly straight lines,
just horizontal, no curve there, no black pencil,
she walks past, wishing she was invisible—
No one can be invisible or unnoticed here,
even in old age, we all take up space
when the young kids leave home,
milling from E 7th Street
to 1st Ave.,
they are too busy gawking at the
Cooper Union
to stop to have tea with me….
No, it’s not so strange
to see these things
in the East Village.
This is New York, after all.