Diana Darby ** "I V" ** Intravenous

Washington Square

I can just see you
sitting on that bench
in Washington Square Park
eating your pretzel
and sipping your Coke,
sharing your crumbs with the pigeons
who gather round you.
You squint
the sun from your eyes
as if you are struggling to see
something more
than what is actually before you.
Your voice
is sweet and warm,
a cinnamon smooth cream
that floats
above the cacophony of New York.
Your hands, soft as butter,
melt women with one touch.
I have loved them for years
so have all the others.
I saw you in the coffin too.
What a big dope you were,
sleeping your life away.