A series of walking poems written on the block of Grand St. between Mulberry & Mott in Manhattan.

Tiny Havoc

Long street dotted with inkblot heads,

moving quickly or not at all

as the case may be.

A woman on the sidewalk is threading

paper swans on plastic filament

for some reason I do not know, but assume

is beautiful.

Tiny havoc is caused by

one pigeon

crossing the street

a car horn is honked

& then forgotten.

Nearby a store

sells delicate glass ornaments and knobs,

small housewares and things that open

other things. 

The day is full of

red plastic bags spinning

like dervishes

from children’s fingers.

I.

A fat morning walk.

Brown shoes wait on the curb

to begin their day.

II.

Two woolen sweaters

and the tug of one small hand

running toward the park.

III.

Black dog lifts an ear.

A young woman laughing and

a distant siren.