The "Library People"

THE “LIBRARY PEOPLE”

Mostly older men,
some scarred by a life of drinking,
all scarred by poverty, alienation,
or all three...

“Do not loiter”, says the sign,
and the librarian will come and rouse one whose head drops
to dreamless ( old dog ) slumber.

No loitering.
This library is for the respectably busy only,
not for the aimless and forgotten and lost.

Some make no pretense, and are simply borrowing this place
( as good or bad as any other, and accessible, and publicly free )
to pass away the drifting hours,
and incidentally escape from the rain or cold.

Some lift down the sticks flagged
with the limp pages of the Wall Street Journal
and give the lie to their appearance
by seeming to read with interest and concern.

It is a game they play with themselves,
as if worried about their investment portfolio,
when in fact their attache and Gucci on-flight luggage
is a crumpled Duro paper bag
of stained and faded rags,
and their only ( in )tangible asset
the camaraderie of fellow street dwellers.

Does it bring back old stirrings
for those who were once blue-suited and Arrow-shirted,
at a desk under fluorescent lights in some downtown office,
or is it too long ago to be real ?

And have the memories been so transformed
that they're more like Walter Mitty musings
that speak of once-held security,
importance,
busyness ?

Apr.1983