AGAINST THE wall an old man leaned

his trousers rolled his white beard splayed

inconsequentially for none

noticed his puzzled face while a

speaker lectured loudly on the

Montagues and the Capulets

their destinies carved eternal

ill-fated in electric love

but he thought instead of phantoms

in MacArthur Park there huddled

against the chill with substances

until death would come

like a grave lover

thin and very cold

When…

A young black man in stunning dreads

smoothed his tux and smiled as he passed

body electric eyes engaged

and though he thought it bold he spoke

as if his son Man you look fine

After Act III he leaned again

thought how very rude to smile

as if he were gay when only

he was old old old

and lately aware

of youth, choice, and change

like the leaves of trees

like the leaves of grass.

— RJ Stewart