42nd street

I used to walk those days

passing the whores

the drugs

the sexy stores

see the lights

flashing arrows

light up the sky

hot pink, bright yellow,

neon green and orange too

smell of sweetness in the air

weed on the side

black man white man

inside out

girls in heels

knee high boots

mini skirts

cheeks seen

feathers around necks

stocking covered long legs

I used to walk those streets

filled with motion

and sperm lotion

with chaos and nudity

pornography

and money money money

twenty-five cents

televisions

I have 125 stations

it’s time to go back to join other creations

prostitutes

no institute for freedom

where the men all go

to dance and prey

where the men all rape

the young of their innocence

the children still cry

for cigarette butts

was inspiration

for artists and poets

musicians too

for films and movies

and womyn too

Now it’s no more lust

but falling dust

demolition

to create a new political nation

filled with children

not selling

but buying

mickey mouse

and donald duck

theatres and candies

no more sluts

Now its towers of products

no more vibrations

just new fun

no more poetry

no more art

that is dead

instead,

corporate business

making a buck

instead of a fuck

Now it’s no strip

for the men who tip

it’s just a collection

and only a few

stand at 42nd and 8th

offer me a smoke

or a blow

but don’t ever

ever

offer me disney again

© 1997 David Greg Harth

97.10.16.18:46:00@505MAHWAH