Random Poem: Yesterday Was 1964

Captured pictures of tears
is the photo I stared at in the
small crowded gallery in Williamsburg
slipping on slush puddles and
watching snow fall in between buildings and windows
shadows of late afternoon light on stairwells
and snowdrifts against cars towering over shivering poodles
on the daily squirt break dragged by
their owner, a spoiled spineless nymph smoking
imported French cigarettes and making an
appointment for an eyeball massage on her
chic cellphone
while listening to golden oldies
on her new iPod,
I overhead the song about
globetrotting
elegantly dressed kings and queens,
dancing in old fortresses lit by
candle light and
stolen celestial reflections while
the soft voices of
late sunshine divas gayfully sing about
former boyfriends and the
sweet smell of the air after it rains.
That was 1964.