the sort of day
I just might put on that new tie
except I don’t wear ties while writing poems;
how about a new poetic style,
though of course, said Eeyore,
no-one would notice…
The choice offers itself
like those two optimistic primulas in slightly corny colours out there
sunning themselves after a winter bravely endured:
how about a confidently laid-back,
assured as of paradise gained,
with appropriate underplayed humility,
Bay Area style?
Little left to desire,
just a cool sense of life well lived
and a touch of cosmic consciousness
though without a brand-name?
Cool in the sunshine,
the net curtain gently blowing
in the life of now?
No, today
seems more a Manhattan day for me –
cool, again, but sharp as befits
the centre of the world of happening: just
a mere stroll from loft to Mike’s Place
for that special coffee, whilst jotting a slightly tangential diary
of friendly intimacy with the essential references
left out; a sprinking
of metro stations mentioned to give it location;
a sense of village local life yet lived
at civilisation’s edge:
the Puerto Rican girl in the floral dress
pausing on the sidewalk, smiling
although she didn’t have a pass to the gallery opening;
the drunk you always exchange quotes from Bukowski with
outside Julie’s; the fun of meeting old friends
with familiar traded insults
and today’s new band-box fresh opinion,
the morning wit barbered, shaved, steamed, alcohol-rubbed,
coffeed, cocktailed, manicured, sandwich-barred
in the electric sunshine zing of nowness
that is a new day in Manhattan
as the sunlight creeps cautiously down the high walls;
where every store window’s newly dressed
and poverty is invisible…
yes, I think I’ll wear this Manhattan tie today;
it’s retro but with an edge, wouldn’t you say?