And there you were

dumbfounded, walking the ward--

after spraying  John Harvard's statue

a crimson red

The Japanese tourist

snapping your picture

as if you were part of the attraction.

 

Carted away from the scene

a yearly performance

by a fifty-year-old

sweating

in a soiled tweed jacket

smiling sheepishly

with the rotting stumps of teeth

an omen of your insides.

Still

demanding an explanation

for your expulsion

from these, effete ivied walls

waiting to register in the Spring

as you skin literally

crawls.

"appeared in "Golden Apple Press," anthology.