Taking Sara to the nickelodeon;
because she doesn't know
what a television is,
but poetry was made for radio;
horse-drawn winter & frosty nips---
Sara likes eating ice-cream
in the freezing cold;
Sara never wore a bikini
but she likes to show her pale skin---
wearing shimmering
gauze, gold bangles & pearls---
We'd ride the 2nd Avenue El
to Union Square
where the painters
argue bitterly
about the ones uptown
who just throw
their paint anywhere;
Whatever happened to decency
& why doesn't
she wear underwear
& why do I love a girl
over a hundred years ago,
one who committed suicide
on that snowy evening in 1933
when she could
have been in a speakeasy
drinking w/ me;
I'd love to take her out
to a movie or a singing-dancing
Yiddish show
because all I want
is to see Sara smile
& when she does
it's like the full moon shining high
overhead in the nighttime
Manhattan sky---
She doesn't yet know
what a satellite is & never will see one
except in Amazing Stories;
likewise she's never seen a cyborg
but in a few years
they'll be everywhere---
All I want to hear
is Sara's fountain pen
scratching love odes
on handmade paper & all I want to see
is Sara looking back at me
through time's endless portals
as deep as the sea---
Thank god I have a time machine
that I can activate
from anywhere
collapsing quantum singularities
into a fluctuating temporal zone;
traveling smoothly
from front to back in endless infinities
& time is nothing---