Stones

ever rambled
booted feet down an alleyway
ignoring puddles
pavement cracked and gnarled
like a tree?
you can count the ridges
with every step
except you’re looking
across the way
through chain-link

reading Giovani, Rose, Latino
on grey stone
smooth cracked fading
looking for a sign
that people
a hundred and a half years ago
made some mark
that you’re not
the only once-Irish
in this
the poor bastard cousin
of Hell’s Kitchen

then you find it
and lose the name
but it’s not important
you just wanted the knowledge
that sometime
someone
rambled a muddy alleyway
boots kicking the ancestor
of the pebble under
your sole

~

State of Grace screencap from garyoldman.info