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ogling an eyeless citadel a chance
itinerant in chelsea stops and puts
his humble ham-n-cheese away his head
chock-full of idle thoughts he is aware
that this once was the portal the last way station
in fact he dimly recollects a friend
helped here expediently and whisked away
to what supposedly were much calmer quarters
to rest in peace if peace is what it was
in fact this very morning the last batch
if one is to believe the local rag
was eased out and is on its way to heaven
this was a sanctuary supremely blessed
by its namesake and now they shut it down
the jews still have their own means to ascend
but there's a hitch see ham-n-cheese above
and moslems do presumably although
one has hardly heard of a hospital staffed by houris
but here the outlet is cut off for good
the place of mercy where mercy is scarce
insert an editorial remark
unless this very sentence counts as one
the chestnuts are about to bloom the lilacs
are on their way out the starlings and sparrows
ubiquitous with their insinuating
presence exult chelsea is not half bad
in spring why do we need a separate place
to suffer when the infinite space is ours
to feel what pain we choose why wonder where
do we now die if need be or even are
healed and released until such further time
when the irrevocable becomes an urge
look at the intrepid hawkers selling briskly
ingenious do-it-yourself death kits
with a chance of survival do not fret
consider the chestnuts
stop here
resume
his sandwich eaten up the man continues
his aimless journey leaving chelsea behind
moving perhaps towards the battery park
whatever he may have thought he did not mean it
one portal less one station of the cross
removed from the old roster does it matter
wounds cauterize themselves the end will come
just where it finds you walking in due time
they will have the old infirmary razed
and those of us in the immediate range
will see the stars in passing travelers all
