The winter evening settles down
With smell of steaks in passageways.
The burnt-out ends of smoky days.
And now a gusty shower wraps
The grimy scraps
Of withered leaves about your feet
And newspapers from vacant lots;
The showers beat
On broken blinds and chimneypots,
And at the corner of the street
A lonely cab-horse steams and stamps.
And then the lighting of the lamps.
The morning comes to consciousness
Of faint stale smells of beer
From the sawdust-trampled street
With all its muddy feet that press
To early coffee-stands.
With the other masquerades
That times resumes,
One thinks of all the hands
That are raising dingy shades
In a thousand furnished rooms.
You tossed a blanket from the bed
You lay upon your back, and waited;
You dozed, and watched the night revealing
The thousand sordid images
Of which your soul was constituted;
They flickered against the ceiling.
And when all the world came back
And the light crept up between the shutters
And you heard the sparrows in the gutters,
You had such a vision of the street
As the street hardly understands;
Sitting along the bed's edge, where
You curled the papers from your hair,
Or clasped the yellow soles of feet
In the palms of both soiled hands.
His soul stretched tight across the skies
That fade behind a city block,
Or trampled by insistent feet
At four and five and six o'clock;
And short square fingers stuffing pipes,
And evening newspapers, and eyes
Assured of certain certainties,
The conscience of a blackened street
Impatient to assume the world.
I am moved by fancies that are curled
Around these images, and cling:
The notion of some infinitely gentle
Infinitely suffering thing.
Wipe your hand across your mouth, and laugh;
The worlds revolve like ancient women
Gathering fuel in vacant lots.
this reminds me of lit class and adam. but there are only christmas cards at home and a small pad of notepaper so seeing as i wasn't sure if any friendship would extend to receiving a going away card with "many happy returns of the season" and a snowman... there wasn't enough space on the note i did use. haha. but there were cookies involved! :) other memories involve chinese crocodiles, not managing to blow up the chem lab, and trying not to be tempted into buying zen and the art of motorcycle maintenance.
ps: i LOVE ps cafe. that place is so perfect for girly conversations about risque topics ;p i think i may be plausibly banned from it for life, or maybe the waiters know just to eavesdrop more at my table by now... that may explain the soliticious filling of glasses and constant parade of fries past our table. or maybe the people at the next table had just run a trialathon and were ravenously hungry. lots of warmfuzzy feelings yesterday, and iam hoping i get to be a bridesmaid with others all in the colors of the rainbow in bavaria! and i will make a michael cake for the hen party i promise! plus make the montage to that elton john song. <3 nic and nandita :)
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