Monday, October 03, 2005

Lucille

she looks like a Lucille
so that’s what I call her
she has never introduced
herself but I see her on the
corner of 104th and Jasper
all day every day no taller
than a child never with
anyone never holding
a hand or brushing a hair
from someone’s face
no one but the buildings
and the bums surrounding
the white haired pulled
back in a long braid down
her bent back crone tits
sagging under her
good-will sweat shirt with
happy kittens frolicking
on the back down cascading
down to her wide waist not
wanting a thing from anyone but
laughing
pointing
and
laughing
at the lawyers the secretaries
the bike couriers the man about town
and the woman on the go
and I always stop and wonder
is there something she knows
that we don’t?

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