Perfectly ordinary
wednesday—
or tuesday? Here you come,
eventually,
grooving up slowly—
in band aids,
with knees nagging,
with bad sound
and a few crotchety
rashes, et. cetera—in shy shoes and
shambling—
out past
the usual
old hats and
flat tops;
those pretty blue cinders
and glinting,
shards of tempered
brown glass,
and those shabby
black plastic liquor
bags windswhirling, and things like that—
until—presently
spotting
the—hardly
rare either—shiny little sidewalk penny.
Except that
this!—is exactly
where
the rest—
of the
band kicks back in.
