take it,
live it,
like it,
return it,
loan it,
sleep on it,
look at it,
close it,
open it,
occupy it,
own it,
buy it
populate it,
disseminate it,
talk about it,
listen to it,
feel it
destroy it,
stop it,
yet to in love with it....

(c) Ko Win Khine aka. D Hlaine (May 4th, 2016.  NYC)

on the crowded quai of inception
   gilded minutes ornately revolve
time is measured in tranches of soul
   transporting moments of his essence

never versed in the outside world
   an innocent daughter of imagination
boarding a train of transfixed reverie
   her departure held fast in sistine release

such a private exhibition on public display
   their affection left open to interpretation
a tearfully expressive and inspired farewell
   within a shrine devoted to the art of the muse

I hail a cab.  I’ve got to leave this part
of town, the Upper West,
dripping with fatty money.

At 97th I step in
and exhale, revived
by the sweating air in taxi cabs.

Through the window
I see
the imposing orange
of a tall
sewer ventilator,
steaming and
ignored—

At Columbus Circle,
a corner hot-
dog stand
is slow-
ly wheeled to
its moment-
ary place—

Broadway, with
one closed bank.
Empty, in back
the dusted black,
and iron beams?
Things lean
diagonal
against the walls,
a warning—

Faster, faster,
further south and somewhere
in the Village.
The rows,
rows and rows
of brownstone stoops:
quietly lined
along the street
patient, waiting,
delightfully clean—

The cab rolls to a stop.  I pay and step out to the street.
Near Greenwich Street, the crosswalk
supports some types trying so hard
not to be doing all that much
and wearing hip clothes.

I’ll stop mid-street, look up real high,
and take in the sunlight
that’s slamming against the pavement.

I Asked the professors who teach the meaning of life to tell
     me what is happiness.
And I went to famous executives who boss the work of
     thousands of men.
They all shook their heads and gave me a smile as though
     I was trying to fool with them
And then one Sunday afternoon I wandered out along
     the Desplaines river
And I saw a crowd of Hungarians under the trees with
     their women and children and a keg of beer and an
     accordion.