My last stand will be in New York City...

A re-write. Hopefully better.

My last stand will be in New York City.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry
Two brother die by own hands. I dream of a place to find peace.”

My last stand will be in New York City…

I want to go to New York City….

I will sit on a park bench where Leonard Cohen sat with Joplin.
Whispering stories of things to come to her.
I wonder what he did to remember her in her death.

My soul has become so dirty.
I feel I would fall into the old city.
I become like her.
Full of secrets and hidden desires.

The woman are colder in New York city.
Warmer if they decide to allow you in to see.
Their permanent scars and tarnish view on love.
Leave me wishing to know all their mysteries and feel their hunger.

They dress in darkness.
I like my woman to wear black.
It makes me aroused. My mind and my body.

I want to roam the streets.
Be with the people at the lowest point in life.
I want to listen to their stories.
I don’t pity them.
I will tell them my stories.

I would sit in dark bars,
listen to the night people.
Perhaps dance in the twisted dance of passion and lust. 


I will sit on a bench.
My words would become complete.
I would flow with the city.
I would become the voice of insanity.
Perhaps sanity?

I will find my place.
I will go to New York soon.
To find my peace of mind.

                     Coyote
                  17 April 1994

Author's Note

Thank you for reading..

Reviews

[Einstein Noodle]

i remember this one John. tho not quite as down and dirty if i recall correctly .. your second quatrain is killer says i! .. i am stripped bare with no pretentious lying to me self ... an appropriate place for such a soul ...every City has a row but these days the politics of distain for law enforcement and lack of support for it makes NYC a very dangerous place for anyone ... there is nothing there that calls to me i'm afraid .. your memories of it go back to a time when at least dreams still had root ... nice rewrite sir ...
E.

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you, my friend. I appreciate the comment.

[M. J. Smith]

My friend, you're braver then me. New York City? They say if you can make it there you can make it anywhere. But I much prefer the open road and a quiet campground. Seems to me the city casts even deeper shadows on an already troubled heart.

[Coyote Poetry]

In the end in 1992. I spend weekends in New York City for three months. I never had any problems. Thank you M. J. Smith for reading and the comment.