Lady & Me

1

quarter past eight
every weekday morning
white fake-leather bag
strapped on fat laps
she settles the same corner
at rico’s in midtown where
puertoriquenos y dominicanos
thunder greetings with orders
in a lightning of spanish
discuss el diario’s headlines
gobble the $1.99 special
of huevos con cuchifritos
bet numbers with pepe
the bookie waiter who
jokes around & laughs while
some of us curse & wait
for honey-glazed donuts
hot-toasted buttered bagels
& the best cafe con leche
this side of the atlantic

2

hazel eyes look out past
a multitude of robots
mannequins marching
in the garment district
delicate seamstress fingers
lift an already full cup
into which she slowly stirs
many packets of sugar
she licks the spoon dry
the steam always halos
her freckled caramel face
like i caught her today
back from my sick leave
thirty pounds skinnier
out of breath & uneasy
about returning to work
i sat down next to her
with a large frosty bandito
she gazed at the ghost of me
asked “amigo, como esta”