On Washington Square

On Washington Square

An autumn introspection

the invasion’s self elected

different climate

not a different Gd

Close your eyes and kiss away

the guilt of your assimilating

we are not the same

because I taste New York in your America

and Jerusalem in your Diaspora

There are seven poles

in this universe of earth

and when things tip

they tip left

and liberal

and gender becomes

color becomes

words on strike

like garlic pellets flung at

Galapagos dreamlands

tainting truffles

and it’s not tint

but texture

And you tin foil onwards

splintered between

forest planks and chessboards

and splashes of

tall peppermint black and white mocha

taffeta candy and pigeons

on Trafalgar’s wrong Square park

and deal out kisses on palms

the chocolate kind

Smells of Henry James and trite

and hopscotch on sand

freedom to dream of

not this color polish on your

handfuls of

insomnia

You’re implied in all

my sentences that

flirt with endings

slanting truths and

wishing we were

goodness

once

Stop civilizing women

between legs

the innovation’s fleeting and

there’s mud and

fountains and

park renovations and

balloons to contend with

stoned out of mind,

an arch tilts west to fourth

and Jeremiah stops

bullfrogging Garibaldi

ode to Joyce ensues in

not Dublin

not Green

not raining cats

and cradles

the little boy in red tennis shoes taps me

and asks to be hugged