a morning to work, a morning to rest

I.
– You almost pushed me off, sir! – You
shouldn’t jump while I’m already in motion,
ma’am!
Gust of the brisk air, – a slap on your face,
step out of the bus! Hurry up!
– I’m squeezing out!
A choir of pneumatic hammers, everybody
unionized! Ninth Ave, major construction
in progress. Cranes, a phallic symbol of
a working class.

A misery caged in the glass and iron. Bidirectional
truth of the smart elevators. They’ll show you
the weather and take you windows shopping.
They’ll have you being watched, there
is no real love in the elevator! Stop dreaming,
keep making love to your cup of coffee.
– I’ve noticed, she’s stealing your
looks. – Take stairs next time. Claustrophobic
kingdom of cubicles of open space. A medieval
romanticism of your office fire-drills.

A drunk homeless satyr is sleeping in his
cardboard sanctuary. Engulfing aroma of the urine,
puke and human indifference, – welcomes you to
the magical kingdom of underground. – El mariachi,
El nino, El malei rachamim¹, ELO
– Hey, watch where you’re going! NYPD,
National Guards, K9, Number 9, feeling
protected. Departures, arrivals, a purgatory.
– I can’t talk right now, here, take
a dollar. Indulge yourself in the world
to come. – Should I take an umbrella with me?

II.
Empty Bus, – rustling wheels, Williamsburg
bridge. Sunny morning, Saturday or Sabbath. – Now we’ll
wait,till bus will pass, then we’ll cross. – Okay, I will
wait, but I’m cold. A frock, shiny shoes. A walk.
Smell of barbecue by Michelle, a grog or compote. – Can
you lower your music, an idiot!? A skeleton of the fire
escape on the sidewall.
Sunny, spot occupied by a cat, frozen time, random
squint. Basketball.

He wants to get up, but doesn’t want to lose the feel
of her skin. Spinning fan, breaking sun, through the
blinds and smoke. A stolen cigarette.
He doesn’t remember last night, yesterday he was
a neanderthal, today Lt. Colonel.
– I’ll quit, I promise last drink. – Wait, till
you see me playing my guitar on the street. – Kiss me
here, kiss me there, kiss me goodbye on the cheek.
I’ll take a City Bus to the pier.

A pinup mermaid, Second Avenue, Halal street cart,
rice with meat and Guinness, – a pint. – Did you hear
about the fire? Dormant Wall street. Doves on edge
of the roofs, newspapers, birds shit. American flag,
– I’m still allowed to dream. Weather-beaten fingers
breaking matchsticks in the right pocket.
Blue jeans.


  1. a funeral prayer used by the Ashkenazi Jewish community
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2 thoughts on “a morning to work, a morning to rest

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