"Jail Cell In Auckland"
The midday lights the afternoon's tip jar.
The sun shines on the ones, fives, and one ten.
Through my reflective window pane.
It's enough money to buy a pack of Indian brand cigarettes and red vino.
I eat juicy fruits in my overnight jail cell.
They stick to my teeth and I brush them when I leave home.
I take the Double L from the Bronx to Manhattan.
I walk down 110th Street off Central Park West in 1972.
So good, so far and I tip them at my local bar.
Today, it was like the tropics, without any cool breezes.
Arrive in Auckland, New Zealand in an August heat.
See many different birds in this tropical paradise.
The dryer blows and I'm in the bathroom at Starbucks.
On the pot, I see a reflection of a naked body.
By Jonathan Billet 07/07/15
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