Two Poems by Hal Sirowitz

The Car Relationship

They say the landscape looks differently
from a bicycle than from a car. An automobile

goes too fast to see much. By the time you
registered in your mind that it was an elm tree,

you’ve already passed it. But on the bicycle
you could stop, pretend you’re out of breath,

and stare at the branches, maybe spotting
a squirrel scampering by. Each tree

contained a world within a world. That was
what I did during our relationship – tried

to view it as if I was on a bike, but whenever
I attempted to slow down to see you better,

you would never keep pace but go rushing ahead
as if you resented not being in a car.








Overheard on the Bus

I went to K Mart to buy
a Halloween costume

for my daughter, she said.
She wanted to be Princess Diana.

The saleswoman said they don’t
have them in stock. She suggested

a Tinker Bell costume. But
Tinker isn’t as relevant. Diana

took care of the poor and infirm.
She radiated love. Plus, she died tragically.

What did Tinker Bell do for humanity?
She didn’t do shit. She waved

her wand, then flew away. She
didn’t stay around to see whether

the spell she cast transformed
the person or left him the same.

Plus, she’s the same age she was
when I was young. She hasn’t

grown up. She only has herself
to blame for not becoming a saint.

I ended up not buying anything.
At home I made her a Princess Diana costume.