And what costume shall the poor girl wear
to all tomorrow’s parties?
For Thursday’s child is Sunday’s clown
for whom none will go mourning.
A blackened shroud, a hand-me-down gown
of rags and silks — a costume.
Fit for one who sits and cries
for all tomorrow’s parties.
Lyrics from “All Tomorrow’s Parties” by The Velvet Underground, 1967.
Photo by Rick Stachura. 31st Street and Newtown Avenue. Astoria, Queens. September 30, 2021.
Sadly, after a 10-year run in the neighborhood, Don Coqui was lost to Covid-19. The Puerto Rican-themed restaurant closed in July 2020, but its lights still burn. Each night, behind padlocked doors and papered-up windows, they flood an empty dining room hall. There’s some tables and trash, a trace of dew on the dusty floor.