I saw a man the other day
His nose was long, his face was drawn
His pleading eyes said “go away”
Yet curiosity drew me on.
With gnarly hands between two knees
As bony as an unfed rat,
He faintly smiled, with visage green-
Part covered by a dirty hat.
I stared as if by magnet led-
He rose and left, right at Times Square
The door then closed, the train sped on-
And left me puzzled, blinking there.
I looked about, but no one seemed
Disturbed by such a grisly view-
But I, impressed by this sight, dreamed-
And tossed awake for half the night.
Where does he go? Who can he be?
Does he know love? Can he not speak?
And was” He” (shudder) watching “ me”?
Am “I” the one who is more weak?
-p (attributed to Leonard N. Shapiro (1950) 2nd study, Wordsworth: meter, style.
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