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Juliana May 1
How does it feel,
to know the secrets
of an entire city?

I mean, you can see
everything.

The handshake
for a sold deal,
a new cooperation,
a million jobs created,
another million destroyed.

How does it feel,
to see a ***** street rat,
a plastic bag of sugarcane,
vermin taking their pick
of Chinatown’s lovely leftovers?

How does it feel,
to see children
turning into fathers?

To have them grow,
hoping, praying,
that one day they’ll
be as tall as you?

That the children
will fly among the stars,
angels cursed to play tag,
for just a little bit longer.

How does it feel,
to know that one day,
your favorite will slam
his apartment door
closed for the last time,
bags packed into boxes,
driving into a tunnel,
your line of sight gone,
never to return?

How does it feel,
to know that he might
love the ocean more?
Carlo C Gomez Apr 21
Ziegfield girls with Gatling guns
in complete synchronization,
decked out in Erté.
Watch your step, soldier,
for what's often considered foreplay.

Much like Peter and the Wolf,
one thing leads to another
on this daisy chain,
and as you know,
Burke's only jealous of Lorainne.

I'll tell you what,
dress warm for the ******* snowstorm,
and there'll be a place alongside
such an ingenue.
But what a terrible let down
it would be to find out
she was always smarter than you.
Erté (pronounced AIR TAY): Romain de Tirtoff's pseudonym; he was a 20th-century artist and designer in an array of fields, including fashion, jewellery, costume and set design for film, theatre, and opera.
Strangers on the subway
Who I never met and never will
Say, "hey, martha", like they're hailing a taxi
And I say, "hey" back, because, I am martha.
The lights go out in the tunnels, because, the conductor thinks it's funny and,
Three murders happened in that time but, no one cared
And the conductor still does it.
That train after 1 am
The grey and green one that smokes and used to have a future,
That was, good at writing or something in high school, but, never made it to college, you know the one.
That train rolls up and its five minutes late, but it's always five minutes late so no one complains,
And I stub my toe on the way in, I forgot to, mind the gap, and
A strange stranger bumps into me,
They say, "watch where you're going sean"
And I say
"Sorry"
Because, I'm sean,
And we all get on and no one says a word, and most of the passengers are rodents
But maybe some are marsupials
I dont know the difference.
And we sit in there for ten minutes maybe, avoiding eye contact like it's the plague,
Excepting, of course, those few that make eye contact the whole ride, like you're interesting or, appetising, or, they're blind and those are actually glass eyes that just happen to be looking your way.
And, when the train starts it lurches, it belches down the cars, because it, doesnt think anyone can hear it because its five meters underground and, no one could hear anything from down there.
And as we sit and we ride the silence turns to music, like the lack of even rustling, or bustling, or conversation to a friend, becomes the sound of collective recognition, often purposefully ignored, that no one on that train is going.
The train moves, but they dont, and, even though their stop is right around the corner, no one on that bench will ever find their corner piece, or land that gig, or get the girl, or save the day
Because in the looming washed out morning,
They're all just, simply, nothing more than, strangers, on the subway.
Grace Mar 5
of course I'd want you to come visit me in New York
take the subway to off broadway
make snow angles in Central Park
buy overpriced latte's in the glistening rain
but there are invisible bounds
and I must restrain
the bounds of a city
then marked by footprints
replaced now by loud freeways and hippies
the bounds of downtown
once marked by trees and spring beauties
roots once tangled and over grown
cemented over now by sidewalks and shows
the bounds of two souls enveloped in love
as friends not lovers
soul mates, kind of
if I move away
do the bounds bend and sway
or like a string break
and disintegrate away
I love New York
H A Vitatoe Sep 2020
Oh
New York
New York
How I
would of
loved you

Oh
New York
New York
You've turned
So blue

Oh
New York
New York
I may never
see you

Oh
New York
New York
What else
can we do

New York
New York
You've seen
Too much
Doom

New York
New York
Chaos has
filled your
Womb

New York
New York
your future
lies
in loom

Oh
New York
New York
Don't be
so gloom

New York
New York
I pray
that you
bloom

Dear
New York
New York
Those will
visit
Your tomb
colette alexia Aug 2020
Take me to New York
Take me to the tallest tower
Even just to show me how far I’d fall

But swimming in the ocean
Seeing how your eyes reflect the sun
Forever didn’t seem all that far off

Back then when I knew you
When it was clear what your intention was
Back when everything made sense because

We were in love
8.29.2020
Eva May 2020
Abondened on the busy streets of New York.
So many people, yet feeling so alone.
Everyone in such a hurry,
each to someplace different.
They promised me a world where dreams become reality.
With my luggage in one hand and dollar bills in the other,
I gather all the courage and take a step into this new world.
SA Szumloz May 2020
The smell of hot dog and gas
Invades my nose like tiny trespassers
Scavenging pigeons peck and flap
Their wings at the sight of feet
Visitors with a pastry and map
At hand take in the chaos
Musicals like Follies and Cats
Perform on dazzling Broadway
There's no rest, no quick-nap
In this quick-paced place
You either sleep or move fast

In the biggest city in the world,
Known as New York, New York.
In honor of my favorite place in the world!
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