I wish to state before this assembled multitude;
This packed house;
This captive audience;
That I have every right
(as much as each of you)
To be here
To represent my interests;
My justifications,
My associations,
Because
I am a member
In every day,
And,
Perhaps
Even on nights which are too cold.
And then the elevators,
(as they so often do)
Stop.
You look askance.
Indeed, you look at me
In that manner
That indicates the corners of your eyes
Are full of mistakes.
Which proves to me
Beyond and above
– to heaven even –
To the very Golden Gates,
Where various saints
Hang to the golden bars
And swing to and fro
In the Celestial breezes,
Which cause clouds to scud across the sky,
And there is barely time to think of a reply.
DE
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