Frank O'Hara Poet

Garnet

It’s my lunch hour, so I go

for a walk among the hum-colored

cabs. First, down the sidewalk

where laborers feed their dirty

glistening torsos sandwiches

and Coca-Cola, with yellow helmets

on. They protect them from falling

bricks, I guess. Then onto the

avenue where skirts are flipping

above heels and blow up over

grates. The sun is hot, but the

cabs stir up the air. I look

at bargains in wristwatches. There

are cats playing in sawdust.

Reply
FutUhr_Zwo
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Maybe a Frank O'Hara (6 parts of gin + 1 part of Strega) helps to digest the inflation (in hindsight those certainly were bargains).