Preliminary Sketches: Philadelphia

Fish-man comes with trout and fresh crabs:

“Live! They live crabs! They live crabs!”

Bars called “Watutsi.” “Pony-Tail.”

A dark green suit, a banded hat.

The gentleman buys pig’s feet and

papaya juice. He looks like church.

Another man, down Spruce Street, says,

“Yeah, California’s beautiful,

but I ain’t got no people there,

so I came back. I raised a racehorse.

Trainer says he’s mean, but I say

naw, naw. That horse just alive.”

Which way to walk down these tree streets

and find home cooking, boundless love?

Double-dutching on front porches,

men in sleeveless undershirts.

I’m listening for the Philly sound—

Brother brother brotherly love.

Structure

18 lines · 18 stanzas