PRETZELS (Jersey City style)

Everybody’s got three names
and I can’t even remember one of yours.
Hey, kid, get away from that water,
 you don’t know where it’s been!

I’ve seen the hard-hats pass off
the rest of a half-eaten sandwich
to a homeless man on a bench.

I bought a pretzel once from a vendor here.
It was hard and stale
and seemed to have been cooked over damp cigarette butts.

I walked along breaking rock hard crusts
into crumbs of sorts that dripped to the ground
for pigeons and gulls to eat and follow me home.
If not homing pigeons – homeless pigeons?

After that pretzel, I wouldn’t buy a hard-boiled egg
from the afternoon vendor.
I think my personal papers should stoke the fire
under those pretzels – couldn’t be worse
and all you’ll have are the published works,
 no more, no less, no muss, no fuss,
no birds following you home
wondering what’s for supper?

 - By Anthony Buccino
Adapted from ONE MORNING IN JERSEY CITY
Copyright © 2010-2018 by Anthony Buccino, all rights reserved. J. Owen Grundy Park, Jersey City, New Jersey.