early
market morning
with echoes
of harley engines
after the sparkles
comes the rain
new york
sunday morning
crowd
warmly
aware
happy to be out of the rain
under the FDR
express way
to community
communal activity
and the local fixings for an aces dinner

#9/11. wtc tonight

September 11, 2010

void spaces
still exist above
hallowed ground
and money maker
the ghosts are as rife
as the politicians stench
is ripe and rises high to fill
the void spaces

feel the tears well again
the truth sparkles
a fountain
tonight

There is a siren
And a shoe
Dropping
Down out
Thru smoke and a lying
clear blue sky
Keeping pace with its owner
As we plummet
Through fear to find
The rest
Of all our Earth.

#9/11. Ghosts Of New York

September 12, 2009

Ghosts Of New York

In the rain mists
Not just
Today
But tomorrow
And all those yesterdays.

Native mannahatta
Disappear sold up the Hudson
For a legend and beads.

Revolution and battles
Spirit ships with masts like
A movable forest.

Riots of
Dead irish africans and natives
Artifacts of five points
Pulverized
Give a sharp taste
To the air.

Masses refreshed
Thru labor
Burnt triangle brand
Wispy united girls
Tunnel rats.

Uncountable
those uniformed
War children
Still walk the cobbles
And asphalt
Although their hometowns
Never saw them again.

And the victims and their
Rescuers gather in the null
Spaces
Every day as the tourists gawk
The vendors hawk
And their family’s
Mourn.

In the rain mists
Not just
Today
But tomorrow
And all those yesterdays.

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