as the dream-crow flies
Rivington street is all busy pushcarts of apples
and apples to steal, bustling jewish immigrant
green horns, fresh tub butter cut from the block
and Joey the magician
and his mom bull dyke Annie cigarette
dangling off her chin in bell bottom trousers
she worked in coney island
and uncle Nate who stole pennies from children's pockets
where there's smoke
love is not always the cure
this poem hardly a pronoun simply pro-cures
it is the fact
the picture
the shot
hey, watch this
Joey's hands shuffling the deck in the hallway
illuminates
before dark
a new card trick!
E.L.Freifeld