Should I take the commuter rail from North Station?
Oh hell it’s too late, I’ll walk (it’s nice out) to the subway.
A green car is in the wrong lane as a group of us hurry
in the crosswalk, the walk sign counting down,
is that woman coming at me from the other way attractive—
short, long hair, parka showing some hip, slippers,
it’s an oddly warm morning for February—
and another, taller, I don’t get as good a look at her,
the answer is no, or I think, the sun is peering around
the tall Boston buildings at different angles as I move,
looking to my left a distant crane’s motionless burden stands.
What sort of construction or menace or worry might be happening there?
I dart past churches, through the supermarket alley, hardly seen.
Alone, I leave the rest standing at a red light
as I look to my left and see no cars turning.
I know by chance if I should run into you—
I would become more focused—but is this true?
Everything is old, complex, and numerous,
and Rosalinda, the truth is, nothing is fresh, or new.
Calculating is helpful but what I really like to do is stare.
They say AI robots will change everything.
Yes, yes, of course. Like my teddy bear?