Inescapable Lure of the Rabbit Hole

THE DUCK LADY OF CENTER CITY PHILADELPHIA

She clings to her bags of rags
as she waddles
through the smelly-haze of another late
rush-hour hustle.

She wears a long-sleeved, long white dress
stained and feathered
with dirty layers of colored sweaters
safe on her body.
The herd of suits, silk ties,
leather shoes and designer attire steer
around invisible boundaries
that define her space.

She quacks at the passersby --
quack quack
fuck off goodbye
and delights with her chomp
into scraps of franks and fries
snatched in a flash from a curbside
gift of some kid's discarded lunch.

Shadows grow as the day's glow greets
the evening's neon lights
as she hauls her day's booty to her secret nest -

an abandoned piano box seated in perfect fit
over a warm subway vent.