Poem: New York, New York

New York, New York

"Now, this is a city" I said among unfolding arms and boughs of snow, cradles of coffeehouses and that scent of Starbucks roast, pinnacles and triumphs and towers of glass, sprouting chimneys gracing ash, blaring horns, cartwheeling staircases, skirting slalom those black-bag edifices astound! the smell of baking bread and baking desserts, that crumble of creme brulee, those crates of vegetables, the slit-snap of plastic restraints binding those newspapers, and strangers encroaching upon my space in that rumbling mausoleum, the seismic concrete, the snowbanks piled wet with the cries of sledding. escalators escalate! as we weave through department stores, forests of mittens, crowded monuments, a diversity of sound, the lights descending, the taste of urgency, migrating across culture and innovation in droves, we find peers in paleontologists, poetry in poltergeists, this city of scarves whose breath in heaves awakens.