How I Go to the City
After Mary Oliver’s “How I Go to the Woods”
Sometimes, I go to the city alone,
with not a single friend, for they are all
whiners and egotistical saps and, therefore, insufferable.
I don’t really want to be seen talking to the migrants
or hugging the homeless. I have my way of gravitating
to the needy, as you no doubt have yours.
Besides, when I am alone and it’s dark
I can become visible to no one.
I can sit at a bus stop or on a kerb outside
a 7-11 unobtrusive as a starling on a wire,
while passers-by run to catch the last train,
ignoring me. I can almost bear the unbearable
sound of the traffic lights screaming, Go. Caution. Stop.
Stop. Stop!
If you ever go to the city with me…wait.
It will never happen.
Julian Matthews is a mixed-race minority poet published in various journals and anthologies. He crashed into a poetry workshop six years ago. That happy accident turned into a rabid compulsion. If you wish to support his recovery, please send him Wordle answers at http://linktr.ee/julianmatthews
The Marbled Sigh 