New York’s gnawing August heat outside, chilled
air conditioning within Lafayette’s
East Side post office—century-old build
of curved walls, high ceilings and windows set
like some ancient cathedral. I hang out
in tight, coiled waiting line, glance at near doors
to see small, young woman—timid with doubt,
dressed in Mideast silks—pulled inside, ordered
by thin man—Indian, Pakistani
maybe—with his pointing hand to stay put.
She gazes at us, lost. He slides, canny
eyes wide, outside and runs away. Takes but
seconds. Another city scam. We view
the scene, lost, staring like saintly statues.
Roger Armbrust
October 23, 2008
