JULIEN JEFFERSON
they say
they say how is life i say
like travelling on the metropolitan—
train lines like time lines
watching stations of opportunity grow closer and disappear
choose to get off or don’t
but each moment seized means a different train
this is not what they want so they say
how do you spend your days and i say
like a rich man does—
without any thought to their price
i empty my pockets of hours
and throw them on the pavement
they say how are you finding the city
i say—by opening my window
they say how do you tie your scarf i say
never well enough
say you must be Parisian
i say
i almost wish
they say how can you fit so many bottles into a closet
i say one can always find room for friends
they ask how i write
i say by trying hard not to
ask how i stay afloat
i say with difficulty—
but the hollowness helps
they ask if i want a hit
so i show them the other cheek
they say what does love mean to you—
i can’t answer
so they ask
how i think
about time
like a street bum rehearsing a tune i say—
he is fun to consider but
if i think too long about his outstretched hands and the cold
weather
despair sinks in
so i try not to look
finally they say then how can you take it
and i reply—usually black
but recently i’ve been adding sugar
to make the bitter go down easy