Pin Pricks

Such occasion came his 5^th year

A tailored birthday getup

Presented first pinned to a child-sized mannequin

Then clothing the birthday boy

Then sold back to the tailor.

Hard times they were

For parents of the depression years.

Now…

During nocturnal quietness

He often strolls into the poor streets of his Bronx upbringing

Convinced that vintage birthday outfit

Has maintained residence all these years

In the tailor’s window

Well, I’ll be…

He’s said to no one.

How the hell…

He’s said aloud as he’s awakened

From the demanding nightly dream

‘Course…

Living in Tribeca

Moving stocks around on Wall street

And wearing Armani suits daily

Can mess with your head

You know?

  Did he tell you…

That borough street goes on endlessly

And store to store

Window to window

Lamppost to lamppost

He always has to stop

And try to remove

The pricking pins

From the dark cloth of his years