New York
I.
Right now, and here
New York is under threat
But I have no fear
I cannot think of anywhere for me
There is no place else
I’d rather be
I love this city
This tranquil greyness
In all its passionate gritty
I see that beacon of light
Embracing ten years past
Calling me to remembering that sight
When all of humanity looked this way
I smelled the burning of steel and flesh
For weeks to stay
Rare the time to pause or walk slow
This is my New York
Strong and firm we’ll forever grow
II.
I love to be a
Minority on the subway
I love that I could go
A day without speaking
My native language
Reading my native script
Or seeing someone the same race as me
And yet still be at a place I call home
I love these Hindus and Buddhists
Jews and Muslims
Catholics and Protestants
Mormons and Native Americans
I love these Chinese and Japanese
Italians and Irish
Germans and Polish
Mexicans and French
Palestinians and Yemenites
Israelis and Argentineans
Indians and Iranians
I’ve never known love
Until I lived in this city
It’s mangled grids
Of horn honking cabbies
Its unions of construction workers
And mobbed-run bakeries
Its high art in Chelsea
And low in Williamsburg
Its corner Halal carts
And fleet of food trucks
Its underground rats
And over ground roaches
Its green parks and winter storms
Its Dumbo, Tribeca, and NoLita
Its Riverdale, Brighton, and Woodside
Its H&H Bagels, Shake Shack Burgers, and Nathan Hot Dogs
Its Omas & Opas
III.
We are cultural warriors
A fortress of differences
Always united and proud
To be a “New Yorker”
There is no tomb
Id rather be in
But in the tomb of
The grey skyscrapers
And brownstones
That line my city’s streets
When New York falls
The world watches
When New York rises
The world watches
This is not America
This is New York
The city I love
© 2011 David Greg Harth
11.09.18.21:11:49@130BklynNYC