The Greatest Descent

What is safety

Pushed away unsafely

City streets stirred up and shady

It seems a story slams the headlines


The feeling is uneasy

Slightly crazy

How is it that civilization

Can never be quite content

Individuals looking for a reason

For the greatest descent

Wake up on Monday morning

The headlines read

3 men attacked with guns

On the streets

New York City

In the highest of high rises

No reason to sympathize

For one foolish man

Can bring down the hearts of 3

Right on the streets of the city

Disputes, commutes, early mornings

No sudden warning

My wife and I were only 4 miles away

Uneasy it seems these days

Life can be short of pretty

On tough days in New York City


The Commodity of Space

Thank God for public transportation

This revelation

Is one of the finest gems

The beauty of the capital of the nation

We are able to move swiftly

Through station

Feet connected to floors

Cold and eternally soaked

To the floorboards of the railcars

A collective quiet continuum

Running from face to face

Some disinterested

Wearing discontent well on their face

Underneath the city

There is a currency of space

Being given and taken

Awarded and mistaken

The sole private goal

Of a seat on a reasonable Subway

Some would just rather pay

Because there is always the lingering

Unreasonable chance

That the cart is filled in advance

But we stagger on

With the commidty of space low

Take it slow

Get on the train

Pull away,


Certain Uncertainty

Mary’s not going to pay her bills on time
No concern for fine cheese and expensive wines
Riding subways straight
Under the streets
Standing upright on sore feet
Asthma machine is 6 feet deep
Her certainty in uncertain
Uncertain of the next job
Or the next paycheck
Not contained in simple
Passages from underground
I wish to help
For I stand helpless
These poems ideas felt a million times before
What can I offer
What can I do more
These circumstances I can not change
Take her world rearrange
Life fruit lay in her bounty
For I am the one who must need pity
Wanting to help
With nothing to give
Yet neither of us should shed pity on others life lived
So I walk on
Battle over
Destroyed inside
Maybe if I offered help I would feel alive
But I walk through the tunnels to my next passage
From the subways to the streets
And on with life