With the dog day
that is eating up August
near potholes of a heat wave
leaving my motorcycle
with an actor
as I'm to audition
for a part in Godot
asking for a second wind
or at least a breeze
on a park bench
by a pavilion's fountain
under the blazing sun's glow
watching a runaway sailor
with innumerable tattoos
drinking from a bottle
of New Orleans bourbon
which breaks at his feet
trying to shew away a mosquito
I'm reciting psalm forty one
watching a child's choir
with black collars
singing the Latin
of Thomas Tallis,
the dawn comes to light
under elm and chestnut trees
where a hive of bees is moving
hearing students from City College
argue about Plato, Nato, politics
Henry James and Melville
with books of knowledge
filled under their muscular arms
and a fortune teller out of Styx
named Alice Wonderland
asks me for a dollar
offering to do magic
with salty language
turning tricks in this bailiwick
when I mention Mary Magdalene
runs away from me like the pigeons
who still move in my head
thinking of my friend Roberta's
first love, second marriage
third separation, fourth divorce
as a Marathon runner
named Martha
from Jamaica changes course
and says to me ,"Maranatha"
the Lord is coming
and I say, not soon enough for me.
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