Shopping Bag Woman, E. 7th St. & 2nd Ave., 1982, photograph by Philip Pocock


MONKEYS ON CRESTON AVENUE The Bronx, 1985 B–short for Beatrice–was the last of the Irish living at 2208 Creston Avenue. When I moved there in ‘75 her older brother was staying with her after a stroke prevented him from walking without the aid of a wiry, wheeled contraption resembling a shopping cart. Across the street […]

Trio, E. 10th St. Ave. B & C, 1982, photograph by Philip Pocock

As The Insurance Dwindles

As The Insurance Dwindles In this house made of wood mother formulates ancestry cleans the fish and makes the rooms habitable despite the incessant drilling. As the insurance dwindles in each room an ornament rejoices, a call girl smoothes the upholstery and a judgment curses high and low. Each closet is filled with white mice […]

Ladies & Dog, Ave. C & E. 2nd St., 1983, photograph by Philip Pocock


Exiguity I never get mad, I get even — written in glitter on the broad back of a fat man’s blue jean jacket. Everything faded except the dust & grease. Grace being a monument not to survival, but to resignation of divinity. As words are yellow farts in the wind when rain is out to […]

Alfresco, E. 3rd St. & Ave. B, 1981, photograph by Philip Pocock

Moon Walk Blues

Moon Walk Blues I’m not following the moon The moon is following me I just want to go home My hands are closed Half clawed But not fisted For I’m not angry I pace up & down To see the secret of summer In the night air To satisfy my weariness Alfresco, E. 3rd St. […]

Nativity, 2nd Ave. East 2nd & 3rd St., 1984, photograph by Philip Pocock

Fuck Buddy

Fuck Buddy A fuck buddy will not respect your snot No strings attached is a precipitous fall A hook up can leave you reeling on the line That more enlightened age a filter on Instagram Don’t get me wrong I’m open to it But that also leaves me open For a stalker to target A […]

Alley, E. 2nd St. Aves. B & C, 1979, photograph by Philip Pocock

There’s A Big Moon Over Brooklyn Tonight

There’s A Big Moon Over Brooklyn Tonight There’s a big moon over Brooklyn tonight, big as Dino’s pizza. There’s an angel over Dino’s shoulder, she’s wearing diamond rings. An angel with a raincoat on, though the moon is shining, she’s smoking menthol cigarettes. She’s got a bag full of money between her bright bright wings. […]

549 Points, Clinton Street, 1984, photograph by Philip Pocock

Good Friday Diner

Good Friday Diner The Louisville Slugger has got his eyes on the highway and the motorcycle that is going get him out and up the Hudson I-9 he’s just got to go down to Brooklyn and buy it and once it’s bought the city will be left behind at least on some upcoming weekend when […]

Wires, E. 3rd Street, Aves. C & D, 1982, photograph by Philip Pocock


Countercurrent I ride the subway, Navigate through the maze With my eyes closed. Countercurrent in ancient canal. I recall your smile, The tone of your voice Over and over again. Your words spin in my head, swirl Like leaves in the wind. Light you painted on my canvas Illuminates the way. Our connection made everything […]

Ave. A & 10th St, 1982, photograph by Philip Pocock

Barrio Muerto (Defector)

Barrio Muerto (Defector) During the poetry reading in the new artisanal soda shop in The Mission on a block that’s had botox, a block I no longer recognize, a man with one leg in madras shorts and a women’s cardigan stopped in the doorway to listen. A middle aged woman in a gold lamé jacket […]