Today's poem is by Risa Denenberg

"ER Doc Dies in Husband's Arms"
        for Frank Gabrin, 3/31/20

The City. Streets are empty now, like you always wished
when you lived here, that month or so of summer
with no tourists, if you could bear the urinous aroma
of subway stations. Lofty buildings split sunrays
into angel wings, while you longed for a sudden shower
to cool things off. City where my friends died in droves
in the nineties. Back then, it was jam-packed with yellow cabs
& Doc Martins & Keith Haring. Bistro patrons
spilled onto sidewalks at noon, sipping Bloody Marys. Sounds
of yowling sirens, blaring hip-hop, what-do-we-want? demos,
funeral dirges. Today, the city has deflated,
and another gay man dies in his lover's arms.

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Copyright © 2023 Risa Denenberg All rights reserved
from Rain/Dweller
MoonPath Press
Reprinted by Verse Daily® with permission