The old man living at 5 Constance
On the floor I would call three
Named Claude, an Algerian Jew
Has received my most hostile generosity
And the girl in his bar
The one who charges me too much
by far
Has seen the spectacle of
my drunken honesty.
Simultaneously
In San Francisco and another
Part of Paris
Two women wait for me
To fulfill unmade promises
To be a brother to those
Whose legs no longer
Carry them so easily.
Skateboarders don't recognize
That I am one of them anymore
But I still love them
Because they have the opportunity
To see
Everything that happens in the street
In passing.
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