by John Proctor

It happened in the Strand bookstore.
Whatever he was reading, it fell to the floor.
Maybe he clutched his broken heart
As his eyes bugged out at the sight of it coming
Or maybe he knocked over an entire bookshelf
As he lurched for something to hold him up,
But I doubt it.
I say, he looked up
And saw the hammer come down.
His eyes didn't give anything away,
Just that same gaze I'd seen
From the window of Two Boots
At 3 in the morning.

"Life always gives you back what you give out.
Your life is not a coincidence, but a mirror of your own doings."
The guy who wrote this wouldn't even leave his name.

It only lasted five seconds, or less.
Maxed out on something, I had a slice
And watched the world go by.
Last autumn was warm and moist.
He always sweated a lot,
Maybe that's why I saw him.
Glistening in a current flowing in all directions,
He floated by, head not bobbing,
But staying above the surface.
And the eyes, they held steady.
Even then,
He looked dead in the water.

"It's never too late to be alone."
That's the refrain that keeps coming back to me now.
This man, this friend of mine
Who died alone
Like we all do.

Chances are, he was buying a book for his new friend
            Dawn,
The homeless girl he kept well-read and well-fed.
So now I search for her on Union Square
Hoping she doesn't think he left her alone
Wanting to tell her he died in her service
That his last poem he ever read was about her,
That she was his muse,
That with her song in his heart,
He died happy.

But I don't even know what she looks like,
And I'm not used to looking for homeless people,
So I just wander down E. 15th
Past Revival, and back again
Right where I started
And no closer to home.

It's then that I look in a window
And see a strange face gaping out
Draped in what looks like pity.
But only long enough for me to look back at it
Then we both look away.

In this dimly lit world,
We are all by turn object and observer
No doors of perception left,
All we have are windows of contemplation
Temporarily safe on the inside
From impending exit.