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Forty-Second and Seventh
by Ken HarnischWhen the muse lost me
Back in the day
As she often did
I would wander through
Time Square
In search of the lights
And the denizens
But it is a cleaner place now
The tourists flock there
With no fear
Of the switchblade
But for the
Kisses in the Hershey store
And the photo ops
I stand at the TKTS booth
Now and rue the grimy rain
Of my youth. Not its absence
But its ability to make my dreary
Thoughts turn aside knowing
There was misery far worse
Than mine in the skies over Midtown.
There are no gypsies anymore
Trying to stuff desiccated roses
In my girlfriend’s hand. The sidewalk
Vendors still wrap their Rylex watches
In blankets to flee the cops
But they do it with a smile
And they will stop on a dime
If you want to spend a dollar.
The scrubbed white faces from Muncie
Are no longer fearful, and that
Is too bad. It was always nice to feel
Jaded, and native, with senses keen to
The chicken hawk and the girl with
A liking for pole dances
And a face that looked
Like a road map folded wrong ten
Too many times
People on forty-second and seventh
Are too damn cheerful these days
And it makes any journeys into the Pit
Absolutely fruitless if you’re looking
For the company that misery often is
And anyway, with the price of a Metro Card
It’s easier to stay at home
And watch Fox news if I really
Want to see people
With more to complain about
Than the fact I’m having
A hard time sitting down to write
11/22/2010 Author's Note: "Rylex" is not a misspelling. It is the brand of watch you'll wind up buying from the smiling Nigerian on W. 44th St who says he's got some deal for you before he unrolls his blanket.
Posted on 11/23/2010
Copyright © 2024 Ken Harnisch
| Member Comments on this Poem |
| Posted by George Hoerner on 11/23/10 at 01:08 PM God how I miss the walks around the city though I probably couldn't walk as far as I used to. Times Square used to have one of the best news stands in the country. You could buy nearly any magazine or paper there and what you could buy could by on 7th ave somewhere. Thanks for the memories. |
| Posted by Scott Utley on 01/12/11 at 01:45 AM Ken - You are in a league of your own ... not with just this tour de force, but everything I have read by you and of you. I remember the NYC you speak of, and when I say to folks, NYC? Yeah ... but it's not what it used to be ... this is what I mean. You are quite a writer ... quite a writer ... which makes me so curious about you ... thanks for precious inspiration. |
| Posted by Gail Wolper on 02/02/13 at 04:35 PM 'And a face that looked
Like a road map folded wrong ten
Too many times'
Brilliant and gentle look at loss of a culture the narrator once loved |
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