Life Out of Balance

Tonight I stayed at work until 7:00. It was dark when I locked the front doors. Winter approaches again, soon the great coat huddled like a rug around me. The streets were active as usual, block residents hanging out front steps. I said goodnight to Nydian Figueroa, after school counselor. I bought a beer at the deli on Third Ave. from the Arab owner. He’s a bit upset about the bottle bill. Collecting bottles from small groceries could be a useful youth employment enterprise. I walked down Fifth along the park in the dark drinking my beer and looking at women. I need a good badly. I tried to decide whether to go to the movies, a Hopi film Howard recommended, or just go home, watch tv and light a candle. Maybe I’d meet someone at the film. Can I handle the malady of going home tonight? If I die, I die alone. I turned west toward the subway past the museum, through the park. I can’t look at the myriad lights in buildings large enough to hold a small town. It increases my anxiety and anonymity to the breaking point. I hoped to be mugged, for the human contact. Two big guys looked me over, but I lowered my center of gravity and they passed quietly. Survival feels fine, proves I am alive. The white pines in this corner of the park hold a cool, earthy air reminding me of coming winter, that mortality is restful, of the black bear and swollen river I saw 500 miles away and only one day ago.