I looked behind me to see
who had spoken, / and I saw
them gazing up at me alone,/
at me, and at the light,
that it was broken.

Dante, Purgatorio, Canto V

Memorial Day' 95

The city's so slow
on a long weekend
Thanks to Fisherman's Friend
& Atomic Fireballs
I can light a cigarette
w/ a clear conscience
wondering how people do what
they do & why
The industrial beat goes on
Who is that middleaged man
in short pants without a bicycle ?
I'm sure you know him very well
An old enemy arrives,
I mistake him for my best friend
Let each one there be stripped bare,
without ego or its attendant
cackle-- my eyes, caught by Death's snare,
close & look wihin
Death is harder to see
w/ the lights all on--
The city's so slow
on a long weekend
We are losing time & love
os out of town

Ira Cohen