A Fragile Flower Poem by Charles Chaim Wax

When I strolled into Mike’s Restaurant
under the Stillwell Ave subway station
at 3: 07 in the morning
I spotted Minnie Hollis
then turned and quickly left
as her presence quickly pumped
depression into my soul
while the frigid air outside
boosted my spirits
and snow
soon would descend
at dawn
so they predicted.
“Bernstein, ” I heard
A moment later Ryan
the counterman at Mike’s
stood beside me.
“Get back inside
without your sanity
I’m gonna be gobbled up
by insanity.”
“Minnie throws me into despair.”
“I know, I know, ” Ryan sighed,
“but whatta ya gonna do—
she’s alive
can’t deny that fact
and life’s all that counts
in each and every manifestation.”
“Big word for you, ” I laughed.
“I got it from your Buddha.”
“Not my Buddha
for all in need.”
We returned and just then Minnie
stood up and thrust out her chest.
“Take a good look, ”
she proclaimed,
“I’m fifty-four. Do I look it? ”
No one answered.
“I used to weigh 500 pounds
how much you think I weigh now? ”
At that she lifted her breasts
so that they shot out
directly in front of her
and a moment later let them fall
hitting her chest
with a dull thud.
Bill Daley whispered, “She only
comes out on weekends
on a pass from South Beach.”
Without warning Minnie screamed,
“JOE BAXTER
blasted 13 people in a bank
robbed, hog-tied, and shot ‘em all
told police,
‘I’d have killed
thousands if I’d had enough
bullets.’
Baxter I said
don't never do that again
he only laughed.”
Then Minnie took off her purple wig
revealing a head of close
cropped gray hair
which she began scratching furiously.
“Stop, ” said Ryan,
“you’re shaking loose
critters on the counter.”
“I ain’t got crabs, ” said Minnie.
“Why you scratching? ”
“Feels good in the brain.”