lunch (part 3)

and we walk in a line down the scant path to the
restaurants along
the idle rich flanking us lazily on sidewalk tables though
they
seem to shimmer and melt into the
pre-fab midtown cafe-culture backdrop maybe
figurants lost
midtown foliage
reclining into frieze

mythic squadrons of every
genus of truck hustle
oriental rugs
organic food
antique furniture and the
rations of commerce

grocery flowers crowd grapefruit growing out of ice crystals
reflecting the calm post-storm sun

hawkers govern folding tables of mass produced pashminas
cellphone cases
DVDs and knockoff sundries

lunchtime human pachinko around deliverymen
jagged old windowshoppers courting sample sales reflected in
insectile ebony sunglasses
the slow bored gait of tourists
annoyed or grateful smokers
churchgoers and teenage theater

the low hum of city glossolalia
high tide audio
and
immediately
the sun is in the wrong place and
my body is a
badly closed window
thwarted by a light breeze
and none of the architecture is real and
i yawn through strong coffee and
i am completely at a loss
of argument
reason
faith

i
don't
really
return

i disrupt
my own escape