I draw them in from a crowded street with a wink

      & an eye toward the big guy’s

wallet. I sink into myself

      into my spot        behind the cardboard box

dropped— just here, a prop.           Keep your eyes on the Ace

      of hearts.           Not the ping ponging pair

of clubs.      Watch

      the watch.      Just my white gold

watch      not the wrists

      flickering      windshield wipers

shuffling      gloved hands

      not this hand over hand watch

we keep over one another’s

      peach sunsets    one’s palm trees

& green leaves      one’s narcotic happiness or

            holiness      when the heart

of the matter        is the magic

      is me.