Grand Central, New Year's Eve, 1969.

I think things need to change if people do not feel comfortable sleeping in public
(voluntarily). I imagine a world of little nooks filled out with dreaming minds.
Half of the strangers you meet to wipe a bit of sleep from their eyes,
wearing a head of tousled hair. People are their prettiest
when they have just woken from a good nap.

And, all the while, "Gymnopédies, 1" gently
dribbling from anonymous cracks.