05.01.05 - 8:39 p.m.

i want to traipse around new york in search of
henry dargers, brilliant janitors who steal away to
cluttered apartments every night and work by
naked lightbulbs, jonathans in converse allstars
who might walk past me and we could turn with
a crowd swirling around us like leaves in a storm to
lock eyes while the noise dies for a split second then
surges as we're carried away by the current of bodies,
ladies in business suits and full-length coats, men
with newspapers under their arms and headphoned teenaged
boys playing hooky, everyone breathing white clouds
and staring straight ahead