Long before he went to the zoo
Or spaced pentagonal squares on Fifth Avenue
Near the silver book kiosks
Full of Milton, Voltaire and Jung,
He was comfortable with the city.
It was as if the public places,
The squares tickled by the intractable
Blitz of pigeons, were built only for him,
Like the Holland Tunnel’s gaping maw

Is built for you as you drive to Jersey.
It was getting out to see a doe
In a deer zone jumping a Buick.