Daydream Poetry: Ol’ Skool New York

Image credit: Robert Hrovat, Pixabay

Humid, putrid

garbage mountains piled

on neighborhood

street corners, in alleys.

I’m glad I don’t

live in it anymore;

the too-muchness.

Loud, clanging, screechy. 

Clouds and shadows behind

Chrysler, and Empire State Buildings.

The Brooklyn Bridge. Ol’ skool New York.

The best street food around.

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Anatomy of a Poem

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