Lost & Found
It escapes me not that in Grand Central
That there’s a Lost and Found center
Since Grand Central, and New York City itself,
Is often the harbinger of those seeking what they have not
What sorts of things come into the center, I wonder
What of those who’ve lost relatives, lovers, friends
What about those coming in for interviews, hoping this time, their identity will be cemented by a stranger offering a handshake, 30 minutes of their time, and regular paycheck, preferably with a health and dental plan
What of those seeking to alter their identity
Shackled to shopping bags and poring through racks of 30 percent off cashmere
And basic brands dashed through with thick black permanent marker
Since we all need psychological armor, and these women came to wage war
Photograph by Ernesto Pletsch
