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.