In Search of an Umbrella in NYC

You were having a stroke - i
did not grasp what was going on you
standing almost half ways up half
ways down the colors what were they
i was frozen both us us staring
woman with parasol behind me
are you drunk she said facing
you and the deli behind you      you
leaned shivered dropped your coat
parasol
white
reddish flowers
brain    sweat eyes your eyes moving
seeing me behind me what
black man brown man no man   no
colors you
pushed something away  i was
in a rush  en route to big time
poetry Biz  duded up ironed shirt
the rain was in my way i was not
breathing    you were losing   yourself i
was gaining something   you
stumbled out of your coat  unrolled
a stranger’s language from your lips
pushed your      feet down to
the depths  of the tiny sidewalk even
though it was infinite  burning
ahead of me  to
the food truck at the corner yellow chips
corn violet green sugar drops
fiery torn packs flaring down   and
across the street under the cement i
was moving silent alone a crooked line
going nowhere a woman
touched your hand you were lying
on the dirty shoe ground swimming
up to her i      wanted you
            i was a man
running for cover from the waters
i could not                    lift your suffering
it was too late              the current pulled
i was floating away  (i noticed it)
              you
were rising