nyc poem

Tom Hansen

 

I donít care about the gulls

hovering your eastern beaches.

I donít care about your atmospheric school.

 

I donít care if or who you screwed

under the planks.

 

I donít care that you write book-

length poems about the middle of nowhere

from the center of everywhere

 

or that you like the feel

of stubble on your cheeks.

 

I donít care that your organs

have turned in on themselves.

 

I donít care if or

that youíre square.

 

Someday your watch is gonna be off too.

 

Itís 9:01 AM. Itís a beautiful morning.

A man boards a plane at JFK

flies for five hours.

Itís still 9:01 AM.

Still a beautiful morning.