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Minestrone soup

Do you feel lonely in the city of a thousand horns
and millions of feet?

Do you ask yourself what got you here?

And if you do, do you go by the water
where the East River meets the Hudson
and look out in the bay at the ships

and ferries, and choppy waves?

Do you see your reflection
with the fog and wind in the tall windows
among thousands of shadows
that passed through here?

Do you see Judas, Napoleon, and Stalin
marching through those windows?

Or, you go buy soup
from the Puerto Rican man
at Hale & Hearty

by the souvenir shop
where the American presidents
bob their heads
and nod at you,
approving:

Yes-yes-yes-yes-yes.