Park Bench
By Lenore Weiss
TVs are cinema-sized, computers
in a back pocket, a world imploding
like an elderly person, shorter every year,
or like a garbage compacter
from an old Mafia movie where victims
get compressed into a neat metal Chiclet,
an experiment
for people to carve a niche
with the back of a fingernail
on some park bench with splinters,
to see beyond the sanctity of rising oil prices,
and to know only love mattered.
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