Silence Like Sirens

Silence Like Sirens
it sounds like smog,
silence like sirens,
the stench of the city
swirling in jazz time
and taxi hands whirling
through the high tower
architecture realm
of New York,
it’s cold,
it’s fashion before
the function,
it’s fur and faux thrills
in time and of
Times Square,
Madison Avenue,
Greenwich Village,
plazas of rocks,
it’s fast,
it’s frantic,
to look around
for a minute
seems scarce,
it’s so big too little,
the only direction up the moon,
Jack was here,
Frank was here,
i’m here
sitting, staring down
from up a fire escape
at the
mechanical people of
the sidewalk,
all wearing black,
the yellow cab iconic
with the generations,
and i ponder why is
and if
the only reason we come to this
city is simply to
be seen.
Written in New York, NY 2012

Categories: Travel Poetry | Leave a comment

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