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Mace & Crown | April 27, 2018

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Richard Gabrintina

I wonder about strangers

that sit alone on empty park benches.
Those characters dissolve in the background

like A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte.

As lonely as cookie crumbs buried in the sofa,

they watch the earth spin on its axis
from their own celestial seat
and watch others orbit through life.


I wonder about strangers

that cling to the vacant walls and desolate rooms.

Their lips seem stitched together
by solitude. When was the last time they felt brave

enough to speak their heart?
I wonder what ideas roam their minds,
how their brains construct the concept of love,

and if they’re just waiting for someone

to come by and gently remove the seams.

Would it be intrusive for me to ask if I could unravel
the infinite thread they wrap themselves in?


I wonder what kind of lives they live
and if they even feel alive at all.

What were their childhoods like?

Did their mothers kiss them everyday

and tell them they were perfection?
Did their fathers wield beer bottles and beat them

because their fathers did the same?

Did they even have the presence
of both parents growing up?


I wonder what their hearts look like.

If they were Christmas trees,
who would decorate them with ornaments
and place presents underneath?


I wonder if they notice me wondering,
and whether or not they wish I’d come over.

Or maybe they’re wondering the same things

about me.