minimalist pop, he pop-a-dopped
as he popped past,
bounding across the wrigley wrapper
whitely crumpled in the gutter crevice
the paper sheath perched on a soot mound
ravaged of its minty juices.
shrived by morning light
its brilliance staked a momentary claim
on Cal’s distress.
a modernist fop,
guttersnipe gum ge-bragh! gesacht Cal.
no sweat, virginal start again
if I make it to the sidewalk
“until I meet the next peril”
Cal’s set of mind was
Lawrenceville’s Harvey Steinberg, 81, participates in an actors’ group, is getting back to math studies, and is completing with his wife, Marcia, an essay about the Gilded Age.