The large red sign with white letters, placed prominently just to the right, positioned almost as a challenge to this dump and its famous denizens and inmates.

BALABANIS TAILOR BY ALEXANDER J MOTYL 34THPARALLEL MAGAZINE ISSUE 13

The names on the plaques—

embossed, in bronze, and glossy,

and placed prominently to the left

and to the right of the entrance,

and declaring proudly to the world or,

in any case, to anyone who can

afford Hotel Chelsea room rates,

that they were literary personae,

important men of letters,

who cut texts

and tailored prose

and poetry

and songs

and therefore deserve our accolades

and undying admiration—

pale in comparison to the

large red sign with white letters,

placed prominently just to the right,

positioned almost as a challenge to this dump

and its famous denizens

and inmates

and declaring no less proudly that

BALABANIS TAILOR used to be here,

cutting cloth

and measuring lengths,

while limping on a gimpy leg

and speaking broken English

and telling his thin-haired wife in mumbled Greek

to get the jacket from the rack

and making the world a much safer place

for spare tires, bad postures,

and the belly laughs behind words.