The city sounds like the muted trumpet beats of a the nineteen year old protege.
Who is sitting in the shadow of the black cube sculpture on Astor Place.

There's a sixteen year old waiting for the subway,
She is singing alone, to You Make Me Feel So Young, while her absent-minded mother snaps along.

Tonight she will relive the boys she has known, who have held her waist and kissed her mouth and
She won't feel anything because
she is unconsciously dancing to the trumpet music and jazz playing around her in Washington Square.