Astor Place

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. 

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *