Wednesday, November 18, 2009

About New York

(some time last year)

The City's piled high with store- bought junk yards
& one thing i Love about the East Coast is no one minds all the road-side graveyards
You take the Jersey Turnpike and just know your goin' DOWN
Such a severe contrast between this town and that town and the city we mistook for a town

Its where flawless teeth and hair and eyes
hover steadily above tacky neck ties

And every face grins real sincere- like
until some Hassidic kids cross the street in their tin-can road bikes
[in which they DARE to undermine the bloodthirsty cab drivers
who serve as every businessman's designated ride]

And in the summer, every building is deceitfully dehumidified inside
so all the cougars and barflies can comfortably feed on the frat guys

And the Jersey Shore is littered with more divorced women reading romance novels that you'd find at a discount paperback bookstore

But at night, the city forgets our names
and we're left alone to hurl at eachother the rocks inside our brains
Unaware of the fact that we've lost track
of who should really take the blame

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