.................................
Pennies in the Water
.................................

At Rockefeller Center, I
threw pennies in the water. "Why
are wishes bought at fountains?" you
had asked while riding ripples, blue

as painted concrete, on my hope.
That New York naiad trickled dope
like any Times Square slut. Her eyes
were crusted shut with smut and lies,

as lucid as her promise. If
she gave me favors, laundry stiff
and new, I never whiffed a hint
from you; my luck was stale as lint.

.................................
Karen Tellefsen
.................................

 
Copyright © Karen Tellefsen
March 1996

...a poem in this room by Jon Erickson...
The Four Exuberants
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