New York

New york is a **** a man once told me. First you see beauty glittering in might your heart beating in the arms of the moon. But then as your eyes adjust to the sight and your fingers separate day from noon you can see the feasting rats dancing with junk fueling lives with means to escape suffocating on an old stripper's *** hidden beneath the city's golden cape Then, you hear the sax chant from Alphabet dispersing the haze of the burning tea rising above a poet's final set and though there are other places to see there is no where else, you would rather be.

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