For Lawrence Joseph

What thoughts I have for you today, Larry Joseph
Who would have thought that your August Abstract would remain so long and so thick
The haze always hanging from the trees (when there are trees)
And it seems as if you were right, sitting at Battery Park, noting in your notebook, thinking of the Unyielding Present
How you contextualize the pain of the fall afternoon
Larry Joseph, alone, ashen, and above all, sad
But, Larry, you must be more sad today
Today we have no monument to our fear
Instead, it is in Battery Park and the Upper West Side and in Midtown
And in the desert, the forest, and the sea
I can hear it as you read and your voice pauses
You have thoughts of anger and of concern
It shows in your body (you look nothing like your bookjacket photo)
You've aged, probably too quickly, and your wife worries
Are you sick? We're all sick today, Larry
But your words help because they have to
Why else commit such deep thought to paper if not to move body and soul
Larry, the horror will be surpassed in size and in scale
You know this, don't you? (you must, this is your job)
And then what shall we all do? I just don't think we can take it all again
Larry, would Tom Hanks make a good president
He would win, I think, but how would he handle nuclear war
(I suspect not very well)
Larry, the world is burning over a comic strip
But you already know this, it is why you are so sad