Keep Watch - The Dust Men

Keep Watch – The Dust Men The elevated runs among the tenements, From Brooklyn Bridge to last stop and the sea.

Past Jews, Jamaicans and Italian bocci Past all that is or was or yet shall be.

But watch the rooftops as the black beast rumbles And see the Dust Men rising from their heap.

You must be quick, the shabby little misters Can run from any vigil that you keep.

Why are they there with flat hand, little gestures, Sneaking in the corner of my eye?

(Jones Town figures from an airplane level, A sack of rags cast out upon a sty.)

They are the refuse of the City's nobles Who rule from flat out basements of beneath.

They are what's left of sacrificial ritual When Gotham Princes drink beneath the streets.

I saw them when I first sat with my father, A child with kicking feet upon a train.

But now as age begins to bend my shoulders, I think I'll dance with Dust Men in my grave.

Carl Estrin