big city lights
no lost penny is overlooked. She'll see every one and pick them up.
twirling and dancing on the Canal street platform waiting for the train
she reads every label and obsesses over the ingredients
most of her favorite clothes cost just a dollar
scanning over the details of a chain or a bauble, some antiquing here. a little twist there. I imagine a Paul Whiteman 78 playing on a crank-up Victrola in a room 2 doors down, a big scratch on one side and the tones all muffled
the ravenous beast steals my soul in sweat and softness. tried to snap it clean off.
drunk hood rats crow on a stoop down the block. Hoopties thump by, loud as hell.
all these waterfront parks and everyone's sleepng
the subways were built for us