
NY Streets
Hosts of lonely souls coast through the streets
feel like desperation when I breathe deep
just trying to keep up with fast feet
if I stop my mind will catch thoughts that creep around my sleep
I am the gaping hole after the tower’s destruction
nothing but blood and hollow exoskeleton
hot to the touch so I must still be alive
But how could anything have survived
buch a vicious blow was so unexpected
It took my hope, structure, foundation when it crash landed
the phoenix reborn among these swaying rooftops
shake off ash and debris
where my heart beat stops is the location of the excavation
Dig me a new soul that’s not half-empty
with repatriation, false devotion, love and harmony
rebuild me in your eyes as how I’m meant to be
In memory of those who continue to die all around me
in these streets, malleable like hot leaded fingers
that grab at son’s sneakers
pushing him to the edge
the city barely gets by on integrity
push him inside, it’s dark down here
Broken back and crumpled spirit
I am the hole in the chest of concrete that can’t be fixed
Sublime in its suckiness
Does that make me beautiful as I coast through the city’s mist
brushing off unhappiness as the sun peeks from behind stratus clouds
ashy smoke bags hazy in their existence
as they hang in the sky over us
the sounds of sirens unheeded
so we burn our city to the bone with our music
The absence of those well-acquainted with the night
leave holes in already unfulfilled souls