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The Journey to the West

Though we journey to the West We pray to the East More or less that's the way Each day begins and ends It’s a tale everyone ...

Sunday, August 14, 2011

As Yet Without a Title (for Marissa)

A rainy day
On my way home
Down West 28th
I stopped to consider
The water accumulating
In the detritus clogged drain
Above the uptown stop of the IRT train

You know the whole damn block
Is so lush and green
With palm fronds and rare orchids
Like a rain forest it casts off petals
By the bushel per hour
Being by far the most tropical part
Of the Midtown South Precinct

Then there comes a shift
In the spectrum of light
To yellow from green
With the rain-streaked taxis
Parked along both sides thanks
To the Ramadan crowds
In the Mosque
North one street

These and other things
I've noticed on my rounds
To and from the studio
Ambling for enlightenment
Every neighborhood provides a motive
For a longer sojourn
But here in particular
I'm held enthralled

Home being where a man
Dares and feels the need
To show both his most masculine
And feminine sides
This petal strewn block
Is the very place where
I've had full recourse
To expose both of mine

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