Poetry is just the evidence of life. If your life is burning well, poetry is just the ash. Leonard Cohen

Saturday, December 10, 2011


vision opens 
grey monsters towering
torn tenements
evil intents
tense movements
quick quick quick
can't stop 
can't look at map
tourist trap
don't get trapped
don't smile
don't make eye contact
don't get conned
don't get
beat beat beat
Pulse of the city beats
faster and faster
feel the blood throb
flash mob
flash flesh
fresh flesh
walking the street
looking to score
looking to scare
looking scared
City don't care.

submitted for Thursday Think Tank 77, the City, at Poets United


Sherry Blue Sky said...

This is totally how the city feels! In years past I never was afraid wherever I went in the city but things have changed and now I worry about just the things you list in your wonderful poem. You even have caught the tempo of the city in its beat.

Mary said...

Ah yes, you are write. Cities don't care. They are what they are. Indeed their pulses beat. They have their own rhythm. I like BIG cities to visit for a day, but after a while the skyscrapers and pavement give me claustrophibia and I want to get back to my norm.

Laurie Kolp said...

I love how the quick pace symbolizes life in the city.

Christine said...

great perspective

Brian Miller said...

nice..this has a nice rhythm to it...like the word play tenements, intense, tense...scared scarred...i love the city though

darev2005 said...

You captured that one very nicely. I no longer live at that fast pace. Give me a place out of town any day. I can relax out here.