Feeling mired in morning,
I slide downtown, in search
of celluloid dreams, but
at 10:59, the previews
are re-run, the feature’s
half?class, and they charge
an area-tax on
your munchies
On State Street the show's much
more thrilling:
street salesmen compete
for new customers
slum hustlers dangle 18-karat
gold lines
the last endangered specie
claims
"Jesus Saves"
Midday els run in slow motion when
they come, full of gangs
of old ladies wearing last
rite attire, and winos whispering
sweet nothings into brown
paper bags
a box jams
"I,
I,
I,
I'm gonna
miss you"
Lena's is jumping by
mid?afternoon
2?ton Bertha bumps hips with
all comers
Slim Greer sips suds
on his trips to the john
Mr. Drummond and his
seeing?eye dog bet
on the Cubs
Get to the crib
place your letter on the table
decide to read it when
I find time
stretched on a pillow
bored as death
dishes are dirty
mountains of trash
bills piled up so high
lying there
nothing to do
wondering what
you might be up to
