Morning

The mentally ill are shuffling out
There's the woman who carries fruit boxes in a wire roller
Her long wool coat drags the ground - unpaid streetsweeper

See that guy hustling across the street
Wearing unlaced black ski boots
He yelled at a motorist last week in the same spot

Here comes what's her name in trench coat
With a crate
Of used romance books well thumbed

Down at the bus station they're ranged out
Over benches and standing by the plate glass
Pondering G-d knows what anyway

And lastly, see the fat guy in the gazebo?
He said his last suicide attempt failed
Now he sits in the gazebo next to his wheeled suitcase

All day long

Not going anywhere anytime