new york city poems

Do not
fall
in love with this city
its jungle of squares
the curves of walking women
swimming up streams of men
Do not become infatuated
with the magic fog
rising from the concrete night
and the sea life symphony
of traffic and psychological pollution
Do not let
yourself succumb
to hypnotic reds
and blues
of broken hearted Broadway
because this town will never
return your sentiment
you cannot sleep
in the arms of a twenty four hour coffee shop
you cannot tiptoe
to kiss the big lips
of billboards
a cabby
can only be your ten-buck
psychologist for the short ride
The fleet of high heels,
hands, hopes and frustration
will never truly be
your family
when you lose even your darkest powers
they just have to
get to where they are going
I tell you
the city cannot gratify your
greed in the bedroom
Miss Liberty
is only green copper
on a river
and at night
when you close your eyes
she never
sleeps
she is seeing other men
millions of them

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