house of cards
whiskey-laced voice
of a sidewalk showman
stirs the night air
under a bigtop sky
vanishing coins…
shifting cards…
a homeless magician
works the boulevard
shell games
on a suitcase
covered with stickers
from this place– that place
hustling & rustling
every crosstown bus
that drops tired faces
to congregate
like cartoon minstrels
with cinemascope eyes
ready to be taken in
one last time
before the last
subway car leaves
central station
& the flim-flam man
disappears
like the burned-out
letter on the sad cafe sign
just up the street
where he sleeps
in the back booth
& dreams
about the shattered
house of cards
he once called home