Back In The Old Place
Thinking about past times in New York by Talking
about them reminds me of talking on the steps
we took to get where we are and our current moral view
which is centered around loose suspicion
that our friends for example only tolerate us because
of our mysterious lack of magic
and so actually hate us because of our power, which we do have.
So pretty soon it'll be Christmas, in about 6 months
& if we are lucky those friends will have been hit by trucks by
The tea in the white cup is either half-gone or
I am, in any case, soon you will come back up from
Christmas sitting on the steps, with the trucks roaring by
thinking, I am not that person, so why did I act like that?
Because I see one of my friends on a truck & he is talking
about his former friend, the enemy; and I see that I am that enemy
I also see that the street is covered with fish because of a terrible
No, I don't see that, I only see that I am that enemy, & I dig
it makes me feel like the street is covered with fish . . .
& the street is
covered with fish, & they are my fish, those fish
but it doesn't matter, along comes a real truck, there's a
accident, & the street is covered with fish.
The name of the street is Pearl Street & it is crawling with worms.
Some of my friends come over, we have funny-tasting coffee
but it is not funny to be drowning.