cabal cabbies cackling in the colorful cabaret
concealed conceited cadaver carousing cabbage day
carefree cantankerous canticle cleaning along the way
capsized catfish captain crooning as cabbies play
The gunfire rages
through the cracks
of neighborhood cages
as every fetid tenement ages
and voodoo economics suppress wages
of waitresses, cabbies and sages...
while the slick-shoe alderman engages
in taxing your turnip-blood in stages
and blue-jeaned billionaires decry outrages
of clothes-hanger abortions back-stages
and gang-banger rampages --
as this feckless dog-and-pony upstages
detonated death's tick-tock gauges
-
Times Square was once a sleazy place;
You wouldn’t go alone there.
When darkness fell, you held on or
You’d lose all that you owned there.
Today, though, it’s like Disney World,
With tourists, loud and surging.
There’s not an inch of space unfilled
Since everyone’s converging:
The families from Idaho,
The hawkers giving passes,
The Elmos and the messengers,
The bused-in high school classes…
The lunch-break workers, homeless dudes,
The theater geeks and shoppers,
The food carts, cabbies and the cops
And all the teenyboppers.
I love New York; don’t get me wrong
But oftentimes I wonder
If gentrifying Broadway
Might have been a whopping blunder.
Ah, faith! Golly gosh, life in the city!
Hustle and bustle n' a big metro wander
Exhaustion, life, anger and pretty gritty
Misty, grimy lights loudly grab a beggar
The sidewalk shops like a cold surround
Hot action, big ole' vanilla sidewalks
Graffiti walls, in dab color bound
Hot streets quietly grab nighthawks
Where is the sunny cloud vapors?
In downtown burg retreats
Out above on dark street skyscrapers
Crestin' over in mean dark streets
U' gotta love corner words
Chatter, rattle, natter, prattle
People jabber like yakkety-yak birds
Cigarettes gab under dark doorway shadow
Gazing in windows calmly at low down
In dusty, dry walk-in cafes
Grimy flowers grab at dead grass mown
Fish eyeing brutal building facades, near dead eye alleyways
Oh, noise!
Man like a machine
Never like a jackhammer that annoys
The faceless toiler that is mean and lean
Horn noise, action, in a 'crown vic'
Cabbies scowering for revenues
While crashing, dashing in street quick
O' life in bright light big city blues
Within the blah blah blah, heart of the city
You can endure all that jazz you wish it to be
Driving in the city,
I'm used to many things -
Crazy cabbies, honking horns,
Pigeons spreading wings.
In attentive texters,
Speedy messengers on bikes,
Nannies pushing strollers filled
With bored or wailing tykes.
Buses not in service,
Doormen whistles blowing,
Drivers who have no idea
Which way they should be going.
But one thing I have never seen
Until my current trip
Is tumbleweed go tumbling by -
It really made me flip.
Like a bunch of dancing hay clumps,
All this tumbleweed bounced by.
As it somersaulted on
You couldn't miss it if you'd try.
It looked comical yet scary,
Almost alien to me,
Not at all like on the westerns
That I once watched on TV.
For a city gal, I'll tell you
This was special, that is true,
But I hope I never see it
Roll down Second Avenue!
Self-portraits and portraits of memory,
Numerous notables I am not able to remember,
The barman at a hostel, cabbies at Paddington, the laughing policemen,
The thick and thin stink of places,
It passes through sometimes, like a travelling circus,
Last night I confused a self-portrait with a portrait,
A painted tear ran down,
Then I realised it was me,
The tear tasted like the sea,
Jamais Vu,
Don't recognise myself, I don't know what to do,
Pity myself probably, then paint the portrait of it,
Self-portrait I meant,
Forget it...
Just fling those spirits at me,
Kick through the canvas,
Stick your head through,
Encapsulate the experience to a pill for me,
A pill named death