Evening In the Asphalt Homeland
Around the benches
the young and the not so young
are gathered
The bodega is open for busingess
Someone is talking loudly
into a cellphone
disturbing the peace of the shoppers
The sky is growing darker
We have not as yet reached
the summer solstice
On the FDR drive cars whizz by
rapidly
Bringing their occupants towards
their homes, their lives
The Williamsburg bridge stretches
across the East River
As cars cross over
on their wasy
A thin veneer of hope
covers the metropolitna scene
Another evening has arrived
Thousands head home to rest
from their daily toil
In the distance the sound of an ambulance reminds us of our mortality
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