Then it’s your business. A modern piece of glasswork. Down on the corner that. You walk each day in passing. The elderly sales clerk. With eyes full of suspicion. The whole corporation’s giving it permission. The little stairway. A little bit of carpet. A pair of mirrors that. Are facing one another. Out in both directions. A thousand little Julias. That come together. In the middle of Manhattan. You waited since lunch. It all comes at once. Around the corner. The house that modern art built. I ask for modern art. To keep it out the closet. The people who might own it. The sins of pride and envy. And on the second floor. The Richard Cera Skate Park. Waited since lunch. It all comes at once. Along the park walk. Ask all of our questions. While all the horses. Race taxis in the winter. Look up at the buildings. Imagine who might live there. Imagining you’re walking. On a bowl upon the sing there. You waited since lunch. It all comes at once