MEMORIAL DAY 1966
Down the fire escape
from the Chelsea Hotel
with my alto sax
in a “Superman” sweat shirt
with an existential quote
in italics about God
pulled from the lobby’s
lost and found
on this Memorial Day,
and I’m down
from this makeshift
Maypole,
hearing peace chants
all around me
in the open air rally,
I’m choosing
not to go for lunch
to the local tar bar,
wishing to practice
my new improvisations
outdoors,
in Central Park
or near city grates
of sunshine
I spot Claes Oldenburg
carrying his sculpture
to a Village apartment
with an enthusiastic
Spanish guitar playing kid
in a blue Mao coat
helping Claes
up the brownstone.