H e a r t S o n s & H e a r t D a u g h t e r s of A l l e n G i n s b e r g

N a p a l m H e a l t h S p a : R e p o r t 2 0 1 4 : A r c h i v e s E d i t i o n

JAMES RUGGIA

Battery Park

They come by the hundreds

to pin their sighs on long sheets

of harbor wind.

They glide

on easy fatigue as the afternoon's stout oaks

rattle shoulders.

Cycle clusters whine by;

shiny meteors, crouched heads.

An old clown wears big Florsheim loafers,

a foil hat, red nose and blowing pants of gold lamé.

The day's woolly light weaves waves on the Lower Bay,

the gong struck sun shines and shimmers.

[Originally published in NHS 2000, http://www.poetspath.com/napalm/nhs00/ruggia.html.]