New York Is A
Wednesday Words – Elevator
The sad old demon sat in the corner of the elevator hunched over his knees, face in hands. Thick leathery skin, no longer the vibrant red of youth but purplish with age. His wings twitched and closed around him, their fine silk shredded now by the arrows of countless do-gooders. Across from him, his charge [...]
Wednesday Words – November
He sits with cigarette smoke and a chill in the air outdoors the graying city, watching her guests take pictures they will use to tell a story about themselves to people he will never meet, and “There is a loneliness to the rehearsal of dreams,” he thinks. Any minute now his life, like pages scattering, [...]
New York Is A Nasty Habit
Against my better judgment I am posting this poem, which I wrote to honor the thousands upon thousands of artists slain in battle with this giant city. East of Manhattan New York, we come to you to dash our dreams against your rocks and hear our wishes squish between the toes of skyscrapers. We come [...]
