New York

exactly why I hate the city life.

New York

The city streets are black and white

choking on the sigh of sun kissed relief

soaking cracks of skyscrapers,

so high.

He holds an umbrella

to shielf himself from sun blisters,

stepping crass in his shiney leathers -

move sweetly.

A man the shade of Sunday's news

walks away, his eyes pasted to sidewalk cracks.

We'll never know what they spoke of

perhaps:

Wall Street's buzz and (more interesting)

the bum on the corner of 14^th and Sixth

who dumped a wrapper on the road, leftover

from sleeping.

"F*****g bum. Get a job. No change to spare.

I work for my food, pick up my trash

and go to church on Sundays," implied -

"Take my lead."

Or

the shadowy ghost of retail past

when businesses didn't hide behind bars

like prisioners on Alcatraz.

"Can't trust anyone. Not these days.

I earn my dime. Did you hear about the robbery

on Eighth? And what of the Soho suicide?"

A shame.

They skip the handshake

(they didn't see each other anyway).

A paper airplane born of paper bag

skips across the street, just before

a puddle meeting.

The city streets are cold and gray

running on the curse of nine to five

where red lights are a welcome sign

of escape.

She holds a pink umbrella

to shielf herself from glares

hopping bold in silver flip flops,

run away.

A girl with hair the color of straw

walks away, her lips pressed into a line.

We'll never know what they spoke of

perhaps:

The sale at Bloomingdales (more interesting)

the country girl who came to town with dreams

of making it as a writer

who sleeps with men for cash,

leftover.

"Raunchy w***e. Get a life. No shame here.

I work for my food, pick up my tab

and never eat carbohydrates," implied

"Follow me."

They skip the nods

(they didn't need each other anyway).

Indifference, born of fridgid streets

marches down the way, ordinary

city day.

Reviews

[Crinkle°]

'Ordinary city day'... I like the last stanza. Yeah, it's not really different in Paris.