The Big City

I saw a man read three books, all written in different languages, all at the same time. I saw a woman in crutches attempt conversation time after time after time. I saw everyone on a busy crosswalk anticipate the walk signal and a taxi driver who thought he could make the yellow. I saw an army of buses, enough to fill a football field, waiting to be used. I have been solicited for change by a woman whose hands were completely black from dirt. I have lifted thousands of boxes of reams of papers. I have emerged from a train station with teary eyes, tired from the altogether too idle tormenting thoughts of troubles, transition, detachment. I am still not someone new. This is a strange thing.

And so I saw a man, who was once a boy, start visiting Goldie's for Coronas every Friday night after work, saw the light wash away, saw the path to Heaven be lost for a few moments, saw him sublimate his needs to create and live and exist for another bottle, and just go ahead and put it on his tab please.