A mother on Long Island buys her son heroin out of her household money, puts it on the list between coffee and lightbulbs and counts her rosary at night. Manhattan has gone back to beads. They necklace the cube in Cooper Square. Daddy's strung-out seeds in Manhattan's labyrinth become an indeterminate disease of initials, OD and DOA. On 105th St. an OD waits to become a DOA in the brick-and-broken-bottle sun. The children park their bicycles to pick his pockets. The old woman in the liquor store calls the cops. Experimenting with their own chemistry the flower children, all their petals blown, lean hungry under the cube in Cooper Square and beg beyond all affluence. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE SONG FOR COLIN by SARA TEASDALE THE WILD RIDE by LOUISE IMOGEN GUINEY TO MY NINETH DECADE by WALTER SAVAGE LANDOR GOOD LUCK by JOHANNA AMBROSIUS ARMELLE NICHOLAS'S ACCOUNT OF HERSELF by JOHN BYROM |