This isn't Ginsburg's hospital window.

I don’t have the view of all of New York
I’m not even in New York, I’m in Philadelphia
and my window faces the other side of the hospital
the side they keep the terminally ill patients on
and I can see the bridge between the two buildings
the enclosed bridge where the sick people walk
and the open bridge on top of the closed one
where the well flaunt their health in the sun in the day
so my visitors don't ever ask if they can open my blinds
or if I miss the sun, or tell me what its like outside
last week I was in a different room, the one at the end of the hall
which looked at the same bridge, and the same building
but from a different angle, where you could almost see the train tracks
on the other side of the hospital, the ones that run toward my house
and further to New York, where Ginsberg once sat
in a room that sounds much nicer than mine
one with a window that he could open, that looked on more things
and looked on them more poetically, or more beautifully, or optimistically—
I guess.

CHOP- Aug 9, 1999

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