PAUL ILECHKO

Joe and the Mirror

(in memory of Joe Brainard)

 

It’s 1964 and Joe is trapped
on the wrong side of the mirror
he’s been there all day
this is not the real New York
no corroded brick factory building
stripped bare of all machinery
graffiti covering the dark façade
telling him to leave and never return
to stay away from crowds of people
ambling across the Broadway intersection
a hungry drunk as dawn approaches
looking for an all-night diner
with eggs that sizzle over easy
upon a slide of grease
the coffee     always black
is burned and bitter
around each shoddy wooden table
the chairs are backed in fading velvet
this is not a wealthy part of town
where streets are soaked in brilliance
at any hour of the day or night
it’s silent as the city ever gets down here
as light is seen to finally appear
a pinkish-golden haze that leads inevitably
to blue     like any mirror     silvered
and prepared     two dimensional
as is expected     but only passable
in one direction.

Paul Ilechko is British American poet and occasional songwriter who lives with his partner in Lambertville, NJ. His work has appeared in many journals, including The Night Heron Barks, Tampa Review, Iron Horse Literary Review, Sleet Magazine, and The Inflectionist Review. He has also published several chapbooks.