The air is full of planes
And cooking odors.
The prosperous roasts
Are grilling in back yards.
Black and white youth are wandering
Hand in hand
Where lustful matrons and
Corporation lawyers
Soft-buttocked share holders
And bland neurotics
Watch shamefully the
Shameless tribe of sparrows
Holding high intercourse
In seed-crammed gutters.
The rich cry out in pain
The poor in anger.
Meanwhile I do the thing
That I am doing
Placing one joyful foot
Ahead of the other