The Center of the World

I miss the Saturdays
When I would just go into the city
Always ending up at
42nd and 5th

The Stephen A. Schwarzman Building
Is its official name
But I just called it the library

If I had nothing else going on
Waiting for a callback on a job
Or just wanted to read a book 
I would always end up there
Since I knew how to get to anywhere else

And the high ceilings
And the tables with their lamps
Made me the most important person in the world
Even if I was down to eating 
Dirty water dogs and drinking Pepsis
Because I was down on my luck and broke

Looking through some poetic tome
Or scribbling in a dollar store notebook
Until the dollar store Bic pen ran out of ink
Told me I was one moment away
From the sentence
The poem
The story
That was about to anoint me
The most famous author in the world

But I never became famous
And my palette changed from dirty water dogs
And my Saturdays became occupied with other things
And other locales would occupy my scribblings
And now I have a desk looking out a window
Wondering what happened to the doe that used to wander
Near my front door

I have to find an open Saturday
Whenever the city returns to what it was
And climb those marble steps
Which was not for the faint of heart back then let alone now
Find something in the catalogue to peruse
Find a seat with a lamp or so I hope
And find out why I did all this in the first place.

Lawrence Miles

Lawrence Miles is a poet living in White Plains, NY.