You
Have Been Here, Brother
You have been here, brother, to this
Chirping black bird dotted park
Its calm lawn littered with the waste
Of poor, depleted in the afternoon
Billowed shadows smoke and quiver as
Crawling buses, shrouded, utter
“Going home now. I am tired.”
This place among many yields now
In the clean sun white dog-bark hour
Tender organ of the city, donated
Sprawled as a spleen in Italian Town
Bones meshing tissue, tissue to blood
Chinese girl runs curved path through
cool
Long beard bum curled upon plaque
What bodies go about in the park
Sad.
Gay. Immigrant. Places everyone!
Arching time across the kissing grass
Do you sit with silence, Wes, on that
bench?
Have you known tears, beggars, wisdom
Under the tree by St. Peter and Paul’s?
What joy have you uncovered, Wes,
On the lawn in your green moment?
For you have been here, brother, to this
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