Loading...
Loading...
Click here if you don’t see subscription options
Gerald McCarthySeptember 30, 2021

This man, this woman
           are the city—
           the child’s toys
stuffed
in a cardboard box—
           sagging at the edges,
and a blue tricycle
one handlebar
           askew, its flag of
           colored plastic streamers
lifted by the rush
           of passing cars—
a three-legged table, car tires
stacked like lopsided
           dishes—
        and two black and whites
parked
back to back
      along the curb—
one with its amber light
           flashing.

More: Poems / Poetry

The latest from america

It has been 56 years since humankind went to the moon—but it's still on our minds.
James T. KeaneJuly 22, 2025
Cardinal Pizzaballa and Patriarch Theophilos III gave a press conference after visiting the Holy Family Parish church, which was struck by Israeli forces.
“The definition of desolation is notoriously slippery,” Father James Martin writes. “It is not simply a period of dryness in prayer, which is common to everyone.”
James Martin, S.J.July 22, 2025
I felt two things when Stephen Colbert announced last Thursday that in nine months, CBS would be ending his top-rated “The Late Show with Stephen Colbert.” I felt uncomfortable. And I felt old.
Jake MartinJuly 22, 2025