A lot has changed since I walked through the subway doors with Grandfather, so many years ago.
prose poetry
Random Rhyming & Musing
Do people hold the door At department stores Any more? Or Do they rant and roar And leave the chore To hearts that beat pure? I’m no longer sure. Can we ever endure The unyielding lure Of vain and gore? Or Have we lost the core And emerged in spores On the shower floor? … Continue reading Random Rhyming & Musing
Crosstown Transfer
Ten minutes to cross town. Ten minutes-worth of car exhaust and sewer stench, and mustard-stained, pretzel wrappers that rise in ghostly notes against the brownstones. Ten minutes of peace. Ten minutes where I hide under headphones and nothing plays but the city--the tenor sax born of screechy brakes; the chorus spills from a corner cafe; … Continue reading Crosstown Transfer
