A Quarter Scence
Poem by Edger Mauri
On a starry night beneath
the dusty ceiling fans of the old cafe,
chess players plan their moves,
a bony hand stops a clock,
grabs a peon,
and the black queen dies.
A palm reader augurs
the end of the world,
a blond invites pleasure,
the gardenia is blooming,
and lovers pass the neon on the wall.
A well-dressed lawyer
from the west bank smiles with pride,
greets a few friends from India
and tells a little lie.
The river slides and bends
like a serpent of the ice age,
and John Brown,
his telescope resting on the sidewalk,
wonders about the rings of Saturn.
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