By Charles Reznikoff
In the subway car all are reading intently
their newspapers;
students of current events, no doubt.
War in Viet Nam, crisis in the Middle East, clashes between
the Russians and the Chinese.
But when the train reaches the station at the race-track,
young and old rush out;
they have been merely students of the racing-charts, it seems.
But not all:
one man remains seated,
pencil in hand,
deep in thought—
doing a cross-word puzzle.
No comments:
Post a Comment
If you include links in your comment the whole comment will likely be deleted as spam. You have been warned! Otherwise, dialoguing with these poems is encouraged.