Part I

I sit on a chill metal bench
Shrouded in an all compassing wave
Of ivory silence
bronze threads of light and sound
reflected in the tracks
of a new day
float gently
on the faces of passerby
as mozart bends through bleeding hearts
i drown myself in
the curves of music,
not in the sorrows
of another day
as I probably should be doing.
while at my feet
tumbleweed newspaper
crumpled and forgotten
stumbles by quickly
in a drunken walk
the next song begins
as a crescendo of steel
and a flickering of light bulbs.