that winter stepdad lost his job
people became thinner
their eyes worried
thinking of the crash
steelmills shut down
streets shabbier
shuffle of panhandlers
in front of the theater
a woman in evening gown and tennis shoes
looking for fun, mister?
as if there was any fun left anywhere in the world
as if some magician had plucked four out of five cars
off the streets
no butter, steaks, oranges
no coffee, tea, or milk
tailormade cigarettes had vanished
two people committed suicide
in our building in one week
they didn't even know each other
an elderly woman who plugged the keyhole
the gap under her door
turned on the gas
the hungarian,
goulash cooking on the stove,
when he did his dive
from a side window
head first.