- Non-Erotic Poetry
- The Ghosts of North Beach
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In Washington Square Park
the poetry sells
for a dollar a page
rough handed manuscripts
faintly echo a beat
as recollections of martyrs, saints
and ancient superstitions
seep through windows, doors -- and more.
They're spread on tables
with jagged rock paperweights
edges flutter in a breeze
that whispers of ghosts
you can almost hear
a soft, kaddish howl
over shuffled paper
and around a corner
a swirl of leaves
settles on the road
the sounds of Coney Island
pause in your mind
as for a moment you wonder
"Are they calling me?"
You pay your dollar
and read another poem.
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