Saturday, April 24, 2010

777 - #20

How did I end up in the Bellevue Sobriety Garden?
So many movies: mahjong in the park, orange turbans, blue ukulele.
From Westville East past Avenue D it's chased me
one step ahead of the vortex slip.
"My sister's a wreck and I can't help her, you know."
Art, like crime, 'sbeen removed from the streets.
Pieter Stuyvesant gazes at the tulips. They blush.