He squeezes past hundreds
of wall-mounted antique clocks,
brass and tin lanterns, lion heads,
candleholders, strapped cow-horn bells,
and scroll-trimmed puja mandirs,
sidesteps floor-crowding vases,
camel-bone bowls, shehnai horns,
and hip-high bronze oil lamps,
and finally emerges from the dark grotto
of his Kashmir House handicraft store.
Leaning on a stair rail draped
with pashmina-wool and silk shawls,
he closes his eyes, takes a deep inhalation
of his hand-rolled cigarette.
When finished, maybe he'll edge next door,
into the newly opened McDonald's,
relax next to the life-size plastic Ronald
after ordering a New World McDosa.
