Midtown Baubo

Midtown Baubo

At 45th and Park, beneath forty stories of steel and glass,
she straddles an overturned bucket:
feet planted on concrete, paper cup in hand.

As I hurry past she yanks up her skirt, bares her belly and,
both mouths exposed, shrieks, “CHANGE!”

I cross the street, stop, noticing for the first time
those tulips along the median
match the taxis—exactly.

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  1. You got to love New York City. 🙂 You manage to bring all sides of humanity to life. I love the juxtaposition.

  2. I confess. I am a friend of the poet, writer, speaker and — yes — cultural catalyst. Known her for many years now, in fact. She does everything she claims, magnificently. And she’s only yet in the foothills of all her creativity.

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