Does Anyone Know I’m Here?
It's every city in every state I've ever been,
the sidewalks, the streets, the smells and noise,
the irrational clutter of shops, homes and offices.
Voices that rise and fall, muffled by grit and hazy panes
where graying blinds slice light into pales
that hide them from me, and me from them.
Buses grind from corner to corner, taxis spew
between cars and trucks and bicycles lurching
across dusty bridges of asphalt and sewers.
It's funny how somewhere is everywhere.
Does anyone know I'm here?
The crowd passes, cold feet stutter
Shuffle, skip, dodge and weave.
Some together, others alone.
Some will remain and other will leave.
Some were never there at all.
A neon banjo chatters with a traffic light,
as beer-stained music dribbles from the saloon
trapped in an eternity of aging spirits.
I sit in a church and watch her marry
and sweep down the aisle with a stranger
and tonight, they will sleep together.
Projectors cast cones through celluloid film
in theaters where no one watches or cares
what happens in places where lights are dim.
It's funny how some of us are never there.
Does anyone know I'm here?
I found a penny on the sidewalk
A good-luck penny so they say.
I smiled at an old lady in the park
And so quickly she hurried on her way,
I wasn't sure she was ever there at all.
Bouncing whistles from her hips, a pretty girl smiles
as she walks from the office to the quitting-time bus.
A tired old man sweeps the trash in the gutter into piles
Lovers hold hands and dart into cozy dens
that smell of smoke and oak and lemony oils
amidst glowing lanterns and the laughter of friends.
Doors close and locks snap as the city folds
its sidewalks into cracks and in the cold,
even the bugs crawl into holes.
It's funny how somewhere can become nowhere.
Does anyone know I'm here?
I counted the coins in my paper cup,
Four dollars and eighty-seven cents.
A pint can be had for a tad over three bucks,
And a cheeseburger is ninety-nine cents.
It doesn't matter if I'm here at all.
