untitled © 2010

11/07/2010

Bleecker at Bowery
Photo © 1992 by Heather L. Gibson

you make me want

to see New York again

make me want

a dirty water dog

and to walk the Village

mourn the places we used to go

now in their newest

(saddest)

skeletal soulless

incarnations

to see the lights of the City at night

from your cliffside rooftop

or from the Empire State

either way

neither is a climb I've yet to make

the marred skyline

so different from the one i knew

jawbone missing two teeth

i'd rather face it now with you

and blow astral kisses

to the spirit thousands
and tell them how
not a single day has passed
without a thought for them
now released from my guilt

i can finally wipe
this clinging ash away

and if i can't
could you help me wash it away

the subway stink

pounding loudness and the love

of concrete bootheels

gritty greasy pavement papers crumpled

trash and tourists cellphones scattered

neon screaming corners

no i've never been to Times Square

seriously, never had a dirty water dog

or street pizza

unbelievable, i know

how green can you get

let's visit those

cold lovely Lions

Patience + Fortitude

eat a cruller outside Tiffany's

read Cards at Cafe Reggio

like Judy and I did eons ago

take me to a

real Irish pub

where the bartenders

will hate me and leer

but take my money anyway

and you can laugh

while i get lit

oh i'm your dizzy funny bonnie lass

and i'll do it cos I love to hear you laugh

no matter the expense

I'll pay the tab and fall to the floor

and you can laugh and walk me
back out the door
and i can interrupt to tell you

about the time my dad

got hit by a cab

on St. Paddy's Day

nineteen sixty-something-or-other

let's do all the lame shit

that tourists do

show me the sights

make like i'm some sort of

suburban alien bridge and tunnel geek

i'd love every single silly minute

never thought i'd see it all again

but through closed eyes

in dream

take me there, will you

if only on eagle wing

and 2:00 a.m. lucidity

take me there