Attitude
Andy Fitch

One woman licks a huge pretzel’s salt among daffodil plots…planted this spring…One guy talks to himself (perhaps how I look)…Then a man tosses his golden sandwich wrapper with attitude…then some motionless people at intersections project more attitude than others

 

A boy carries…how is this possible…four open crates of fresh stacked eggs…We sprint to skip stopping at 42nd…When I slow my brain pulses as if swirling past the brow…That hiss comes from copper pipes along the Public Library…Suburban kids stock up on free real-estate newspapers…A family checks Post dispensers for change

 

At 39th you’ll pass long nitrogen tanks…frozen…left for someone soon to pick up…I stick out a hand sort of waving…fending off a scooter…scrambling across 37th…hallucinating security guards…starting thoughts about men with red hair…how that must feel…Nothing else to report but a cook’s black T-shirt: Don't watch me / Watch TV