PICKPOCKETS OF PRAGUE

Sometimes there are unexpected
welcoming committees
sometimes there are sunflowers
near the trolley tracks
sometimes there are seagulls
hundreds of miles from any sea
sometimes there are gypsies
hoping to skate on the rings of Saturn
after they find new planets in your pocket

“You should’ve been prepared for this!”
I berate my empty pants pocket
“Well, I was sorta”
answers old pocket mouth
“There was only cash no credit card
or ID or passport or unfinished poems”
OK, OK. not so bad
half prepared is half lucky
you let your guard down for a moment
and you’re caught in their universe
they move fast
in and out of the trolley
they’re professionals
no knives no guns sheer talent
for redistributing the wealth in your pants

they seem to be admired by the police
who appear empty handed as your hands
it sounds romantic to call them gypsies
and in fact they are
you’re privileged now to carry
a news story to the river
where seagulls sometimes
steal from each other

you’re entitled now to write
a new Bohemian opera
on the pickpockets of Prague
who have their codes
who have their loves
who have their addictions
to the nimble fingered trade

Ah! poor stolen wallet
at least 30 years old
the weight of its loss
the loss of its weight