There was an angry sky above 42nd Street on Hiroshima Day as Marianne and I walked to the demonstration. The men who shine shoes on Eighth Avenue were just starting their day. “Good morning, I guess,” one of them said as we passed.
We walked past the movie theatres on 42nd Street: “Humanoids From The Deep,” “Kung Fu Freedom Fighters.”
“Look,” said Marianne, “ ‘Live Love Acts’.”
We ourselves were about to perform a live love act. We met our group under the word “Grace” on the W.R. Grace building. A woman passed covered with grey paint.
