Friday, June 05, 2009: On the Street…S. Portland Street, Brooklyn

At five thirty on a Wednesday night, the look on all
Our faces signifies concentration.
We match. We look related with our furrowed
Brows, clamped mouths. I walk six blocks
To the bus, clenching my jaw all the while,
And wilt into the vinyl seat, my focus
Dispersing into the air like scattered light.

Monday, November 17, 2008: The Gentleman Biker, Milan

In transportation, speed directly correlates
To civility and grace. The faster the pace,
The fewer breaths I take, the more removed I am
From the morning crowds (or individuals,
If I am on foot). The other day, I saw
A man in a suit standing upright, pitched forward
And whirring stiffly like a podium in motion.
Nice segueway, a woman called, and darted off the curb.