At the end of the year images and stories in review
Recalling events before they disappear into history
The news of the day gets buried under the discard pile
The transient moments of our lives too easily forgotten.
At the end of the day became a cliche expression
So often heard beginning with the bottom line talk in the 1990s
When segui came into vogue to change the subject
As I listened to the spoken language adopt a phrase.
At the end of a life a convergence of themes
Interests those of us whose personal space is political
Seeking to align who we are and what we were
Living in the present with all that has happened before.
I have led many lives over the years moving through
Relationships and jobs and places each different
Commingled with fragments of childhood experiences
And those of my children some with their own children.
Reading a story about the last holdouts on the Bowery
Living in a last century skid row hotel throwback
I remember the people I knew who worked and lived there
When I made my stops every afternoon forty some years ago.
Delivering to the Palace to Leonard John Hughes the Elvis impersonator
Climbing up the wide stairs through the crack smoke crowd
Then downstairs to that self-important Hilly Crystal puffed up at CBGB
And next door to always sweet Kate Millet who came down to meet me.
Picking up restaurant supply shipments while talking to the workers
Arthur Eilets who couldn’t afford to retire from Stanton Trading
Dixie Adams and Antonio Gual doing life terms at Capitol Silver
Kenny Soohoo at Town so young and dreaming of escape.
Soon my thoughts drift along the nearby streets and avenues block by block
Seeing every building and sidewalk and hydrant as it was back then
Naming all the people I knew who lived and worked there then
Remembering our interactions when they were teaching me things
That I did not learn in school about class and prejudice
I think it is safe to speak of them now doing no harm
If any of them are alive it doesn’t matter anymore
Better that I should honor their memory with these words.
Looking at Google street view the neighborhood is transformed
Gentrified buildings erected and posh people strolling
No more bodega where I would get a pork bone for the family dog
Replaced by a trendy restaurant with dining al fresco.
I don’t know these new people who displaced my past
I can’t go back and ask the questions I would ask now
I see my people looking at me and into me as if from a photograph
Knowing what exists today will soon be our yesterday.
