Hafiz got a job down the street from here;
he’s dressed up like the statue of liberty, he is.
The sign he holds tells me to do my taxes,
but the dance he does is anything but taxing.
In fact, I think he may be charging from the sun
and could go on into infinity,
grooving, waving, grinning,
getting into people’s business
as they go about in cars.
The lights go from green to yellow to red
all day long, and so does he –
his singular gaze and gyrating hips
generate lasar beams in all directions
melting windshield glass and metal,
leaving us here at this intersection
floating on our disappearing seats
pushing pedals no longer there.
Lady liberty paid in full,
with a siren smile,
all our debts this sunny day,
calling to me, when I rolled down the window,
saying, death and taxes are as lovable as cancer,
when you dance with them all
on the road going home.
Life as Improv 