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The hub of my small universe I sit beside where flocks of sheep once drank Where ladies planted flowers long ago And tended stubby palm trees now so tall My mother pushed my pram here and I thank The stubborn who had sense enough to know Our Plaza really is the best of us The homeless sleep here next to me and I Can think of no splashier ending than To dive into the fountain if I can If it gets warm enough before I die This is where we say goodbye to it all This is the place for all the rest of us I remember life and brush back a tear Would it be better if I just forgot? The Sterling Silver rose still blooms right here Just as I wrote of it so long ago I did not expect to be understood Yet I was and it blooms inside of me I lost it all then got it back again Right here in this place through lines scratched in pain Like cuts in the thickening hide of me But if you read my books I think you could Get some idea of who I am and why I linger here these years no matter what Would it be better if I just forgot? But, will you ever understand what you read?
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