Anonymous Man (2017) 58'

1. A Tale
This is a tale of two One lives inside
The other one outside

2. I Moved
I moved into the second floor of an abandoned factory at Twenty Two Desbrosses Street in the fall of Eighty One. The door had been left open.

The landlord circumvented New York law by renting out commercial warehouse space to artists looking for a place to live and work.

Outside the streets were dark and desolate. The windows rattled from the cold and rain. The loft was piled high with trash.
I called the landlord, Mister K, but no success.

The building had been occupied by
the Romanoff Caviar Company.
The floors of my loft had been covered with waves of undulating concrete.

There were drains every six feet.
I bought the Readers Digest Complete Do It Yourself Manual,
which had a lot of practical information on building walls and things like that.

I was playing in a band called
Peter and the Girlfriends.
Peter was a girl who sang.
The Girlfriends were a bunch of guys Who played guitars and drums.

We rehearsed on Desbrosses Street at night
at full volume, making all the noise we liked.
Then we’d plaster the town with
posters for our show and end up at the Market Diner. I was in graduate school at the time
and had a job at a furniture store
which sold porch swings in Manhattan.

A professor from Mississippi,
on his Sabbatical year,
brought up truckloads of porch swings and hired me to run his store.

3. On Desbrosses Street
Ever since I’ve lived on Desbrosses Street
there have been people living on the street.
As long as I remember Larry, quiet and sweet, muttering, waving.

4. It’s Julie Passing Through Town
I’m living on Desbrosses Street
It’s August 1982
The buzzer rings

I get the door
It’s Julie passing through town

My roommate Peter said that We would like to meet Desbrosses Street at 10 AM We went to eat

Leroys Coffee Shop
A local place now long gone

I looked in her eyes and saw blue green light Streaming by, alluring, confiding, aspiring.
Up on the fire escape grating,
We spent the day sailing through dense conversations

We talked about Desbrosses Street, Flying trapeze, Miami Beach, Arboretums, Music for Eighteen. the Bal Shem Tov,

We ordered rice and French toast

I said you’ve got to meet my friend,
David Lang in New Haven
But come back to Desbrosses Street and marry me It will be happy endings.

5. I First Noticed Robinson
I first noticed Robinson
He was impossible to ignore
He stood out because he had a lot of belongings He spent the day moving his things

Within the radius of a few blocks With a mysterious urgency
And at the end of each block
When his belongings were gathered He would stand and read

His reading intrigued me and I started to talk to him

I first noticed Robinson
He spent the day moving his things
Like Sisyphus pushing a bolder up hill
Day after day after day after day
He would tell me about the books he was reading In English and French
History and Philosophy
And at the end of each block
When his belongings were gathered
He would stand and read

One day I stopped to say hello
And he was reading the complete plays of Aristophanes
He gave me a quizzical look
“I thought you were a student”
I ordered the volume from Amazon
A few days later I read Lysistrata and it all came back to me The women of Greece end the Peloponnesian Wars
By withholding sex from their men

Not long ago I noticed that Robinson was a little uneasy “The scaffolding’s down and I will be moving”
After years of renovation
The building across the street was finished

And with the increase in foot traffic
The doormen and the new residential tenants The street offers less protection
The street offers less obscurity
The street offers less anonymity

6. On That Terrible Beautiful Morning
On that terrible beautiful morning
we woke up early and dressed our children for school.
We hurried out the door on that terrible beautiful morning. We woke up early and walked out into the light.

The sun was gleaming and on that terrible beautiful morning we woke up early and dressed our children for school.
We hurried out the door on that terrible beautiful morning. We woke up early and walked down Greenwich Street.

The sun was gleaming and we stood inside the courtyard conversing, chatting on about nothing.
I looked up at the sky.
The sun was shining and on that terrible beautiful morning, everything ran in slow motion.

Eerie hushed chaos enveloped the streets, smoke and flames pouring out above us.

7. One Day I Saw
One day I saw
a make-shift memorial where Larry lived.
The alcove he slept in
was covered with flowers and candles.
I was surprised
the Downtown Express ran an article,
“Downtowners mourn the homeless man they called Larry”

One day, in March 2007,
I walked into my studio,
and from the window
I saw a make-shift memorial,
across the street a sad tableau –
flowers and candles and hand written notes taped up on the wall

by the alcove where Larry slept covered with cardboard.

“I used to bring him coffee and lunch,” said Eve. “A kindly graceful man,” said Mitchell.
“A comforting familiar face,” said Jordi,
“I have two kids, he would always wave to us.”

8. Abraham Lincoln’s Journey Down Desbrosses St.
The funeral cortege
left Washington
on Friday morning.

At every station crowds flocked to view the passing train

In Baltimore,
In Harrisburg
In Philadelphia Bells tolled Minute guns fired

On Monday morning
In Jersey City
The coffin was lifted into the hearse Then, in solemn silence,
The procession moved to the ferry

On Desbrossess Street
Every available space was occupied
All eyes toward the approaching steamer.

The glass hearse was festooned
With eight large plumes of black and white feathers. Around the edge were American flags,
Fastened with knots of white and black ribbon Drawn by six grey horses
Heavily draped in black
Each horse led by a groom in mourning.

9. I Sleep At Home
I sleep at home.
I have a bed.
I put my head on a pillow.

I have a door.
I have a closet.
My clothes are clean and folded.

I have a chair.
I can sit down. There is a light. I can turn it on.

I have a roof.
There is a window.
When it is raining I am dry.
When it is thundering I am wondering.