"There's not much doubt in any of our minds that no complete idea springs fully formed from our brow,
needing only a handshake and a signature on the contract to send it off into the world to make twenty-five billion dollars.
The germ of the idea grows slowly..." - Walt Kelly

Tuesday, April 22, 2014

A dagger to the heart of the city

Day Twenty-One (late): Writing a poem in the style of the New York School.

You come to my mind, then,
as the air in midtown -
toxic and withering,
filled with too many consequences,
too many wrong turns,
and not enough choices.
A death in the family,
and some wonderful rebirth -
trapped in the monotony
of rush hour traffic
and screeching brake pads -
the Columbus Circle of life.
And it has always been official,
not a chance, not a doubt.
Not a second before the lights
all turned to bloody red.
Not a second for me to think,
"Well, maybe, just maybe..."

Playing on my iTunes at this very moment:
Bombay Bicycle Club, Leaving Blues

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