Dear God, Manhattan
slick heat of subway
that sweet sweat of summer
as hot air settles
inside a wind tunnel
my forehead a wellspring
while my organs recoil
I wish I was naked
waiting for train
5 thoughts on "Dear God, Manhattan"
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I know this feeling. I’ve been there. Well -put, indeed.
As a born-and-raised New Yorker, yes to all of this!!! The heat is inescapable out here. Great work!
Very nice – I like the sounds and word choice here.
I moved to Manhattan in August 1996. Trash collectors were on syrike. The summer smell was something special.
I wish I WERE naked…
Ooo, thank you. I always mess that up. : )