Light Ambition

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The delicate dance of the squirrel

Through the pine clippings

In McCarren Park

Through the light and

Through the dark

With such light ambition

To find a simple treat

Prance along the sidewalk

Just finding something to eat

Resilience comes in not only humans

In New York City

It even has tough squirrels

Fighting tough

But still seemingly

Elegant and pretty

I can only imagine the scraps

Of the city streets

Instead of lush woods

Would be much easier to find

Whats next to eat

But yet the squirrel carries on

In his speckled gray coat

His eyes just seemed wide

Full of hungered ambition

And hope

Every Blistering Second

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Every blistering second

Count down from 10 to nine

Hold my breathe

I think it will be alright

Nine to eight

Walk forward again

Push through the door

Early rather than late

Eight to seven

Straighten myself up

Give all I am given

Seven to Six

The frustration and challenge

Getting worn in

Just for kicks

Six to five

Hold my head up

Stay alive

Five to four

Only 3 more

Four to three

Look everyone in the eye

From your heart let it be

Three to two

Now I am alone here

I must see this through

Two to one

One more and I am done

One to zero

Manhattan Avenue

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On a Tuesday afternoon

I start to feel my hope slip away

Just a bit

It’s that tiny voice it will say

To drudge on in a world uncertain

Don’t give up now

Please don’t pull the curtain

But when I walk down the street

My heart heavy in my chest

The little voice can’t be heard

Can’t be heard anymore

Even when I give it my best

I try to reinvigorate what may be lost

Walking on Manhattan Ave

Damn rents got me down

On such high costs

That I just have to focus on breath

In and out

I can make it through this day

I have not one doubt

I must rekindle the light words

That once rung in my ears

What was once a mighty roar

I just now barely hear

Complicated Maneuvers

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There it is

Spilled my coffee again

In a rush

To make it out

Into the thin

Brittle cold air

Of a New York morning

I reset myself

I should give them some forewarning

Grab some paper towel

I’m already 10 minutes late

If the G is on time that is

My mind begins to race

Such a simple morning

Now turns into complicated maneuvers

I watch the bright white paper towels

Turn to a more rusted out brown

Take a sip of my coffee

Then set it down

In the trash and out the door

I hear the train horn

I run down the stairs

In the old turnstile

With the attendant half asleep

Make the train

Only by a couple of feet

Satisfied Corruption

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Satisfied corruption

Don’t take someones word

On automatic assumption

Humanity will rise and fall

Some will tell the truth

Others a false call

Will ring on every persons ears

The willing or unable

Confident or full of fear

It is this small eruption

Will ill will

Built in conjunction

When you are on the receiving end

Beaten down

Will and resilience must not bend

It will happen on a Monday

Or Today

Or any day

For the needs of the liar

Will surely set

Your belly on fire

Certain Quiet

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A Sunday morning in the city
The guys and girls
Sleeping in
From Saturday night
Getting pretty
The overachievers getting up
Getting to church
The streets have a certain quiet
A feeling of recovery
While the artists
Are up early
Catching great views
Hanging out window cells
And shooting
Music videos

Merchandise Mart

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The buildings here are really beautiful
This is merchandise mart
The speaker blares out
Doors closing
Back in Chicago
Somehow my perception of the city
Changes as I grow old
The same conversations
Over the same topic
Just new faces
Said in new ways
The brown line seems so quiet
Around this time
A Saturday in January
This is a brown line train to kimball
It seems there is always the smell of chocolate on this stop
Dried salt stains and sand on top
It’s the same city
I am different now

Mr. ATM

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The great neon money dispenser
The thick plastic and neon green
With standard equipped touch screen sensor
Blue LED asking to insert here
Holding wealth within its bosoms
Chipped sides from rolling luggage
Went awry
Incandescent lighting up the night
Place firmly on brick slabs
So I know what this machine is withholding
In its tight held stash
Please Mr. ATM
Give me some cash

Clone

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If I owned a clone

More than just I alone

Could construct

And Labor

To create a home

Me

And

My clone

Could change the sheets

On the bed

Work while the other one

Read

Write

While the other can play

Me and my clone

Could find many uses this way