New York Impressions 03/05
Subway Blue
Subway's playing subterranean notes
sounds like a shopping cart with a busted wheel
As we walk connecting tunnels
there is a man picking a guitar
His voice is low and rough
leftover cherry bombs
scratchy and smoky.
The blues he sings is original.
I turn to her,
"He's got a good voice for this."
"Crack will do that," she says.
~~~
At the Bowery
(NY, NY 03/05)
Any coffee bar that slings Jack
is OK in my book
Bartender reading Bukowski,
looking bored and egomaniacal.
Appropriate.
It's a jam session in a room
FILLED
to the brim with fashion.
I am fascinated by a little man
his veins cords and parts
all jut and thrum with
disgusted energy.
"BABYLON, THIS IS BABYLON"
He's screaming with mouth drawn down
and arms shaking
the rafters
like a martyr.
I toast my agreement,
wry Jack and Coke.
~~~
Little Italy Mafia Joint
Wood paneling
smoky mirrors
men with greased hair in
low light booths
Bartender's from Philly,
says, "Wuotah" for
"water"
and sounds like a threat
to stick a pipe up your ass
when she takes your order.
I think I am in love with her,
which is a pleasant fantasy
brought about by
a night of free drinks
and her kind of big ass
Such a sucker for either.
~~~
Inconvenience
Every time I say
"Tobacco Hut," "Convenience Store" or "Kwik Shop"
someone pinches up their face and says
"BO-DE-GA"
as if I am declasse' for not slinging
their lingo.
Always, I do not know the person
JUDGE AND TEACHER
who has turned to me.
"You instructive fucker," I think.
"Sure," I say.
~~~
She Took All My Smokes
(
www.johnsid.com)
THe symphony is over
I am drinking after-party wine
that is cheap and tastes of thinner.
Some guy is telling
grandiose lies
about being a music composition major.
My cousin tells me that isn't
a course at this college.
I proceed to drink from a bottle
givin the evil eye to an itinerant
soloist
who wants me to pour her a glass.
The liar, adjusting his fanny pack,
starts talking again,
lying right into my left eye
squeezing tears from the duct.
His breath smells like piss-wine
and now it's all about his website
(
www.johnsid.com)
Then he's hitting on my cousin.
I begin talking,
two steps from drunk.
Over the top DJ voice
preface every statement with
"JOHN SID, DOT COOOM!"
"JOHN SID, DOT COM Wants to go get drinks!"
It's ridiculous
not just a little petty
hot piss-wine breath
in my eye
equals fighting words
no matter what's said.
a group of us wind up
in dotcom's mini-van
(How gauche, in New York)
we get drinks and food at Juniors.
I drink too much
stumble outside to smoke.
I have been merciless to John Sid
(dot com!)
I want to laugh,
but it's stupid.
A homeless woman
huckstering for change
a spiel that'd be six figures
in sales.
she asks me for a cigarette
hold out the open pack.
she takes five and I am laughing.
~~~
First night, walk ten blocks in the cold
see a classic movie-shot
skyline lights
"She takes care of me" she
"I think she's sexy,
but won't hold you when you cry" I
"That is such a cliche'."
"So?"
~~~
Kiune is Korean.
Speaks English in a
Valley Girl accent.
She needs a husband,
for a green card.
Makes Jewelry,
interesting conversation.
She asks the woman at the counter
for apples,
in Korean.
Hands me one
and we ride the subway
all day,
all the way to the ocean.
Tara
Terry
