71st Street

There’s just a heavy sable hardback 

Inside your fingers. 

Are you reading Middlemarch or me?

The coffee’s from some musical comedy.

The tables are so far. 

I should go home and eat. 

I see you stare in snatches

At me,

And I can’t leave.

There’s violence on the sidewalk right outside. 

The summer’s getting hotter.

Night will soon tiptoe in. 

One more water

Then I’ll venture to my car,

Although your curly hair’s so scarlet. 

- 7/16/26