 |
| Home Page |
NEW YORK ELEGY
| i heard their voices screaming | |
| a cascade of fear and despair | |
| as the mighty tower plummeted | |
| a miasma of gray matter swirling | |
| a surreal landscape | |
| against an azure blue sky | |
| on that vibrant September day | |
| not quite the ides of this autumnal month | |
| viewed from a distance of 300 miles | |
| so close, so far away | |
| the flat screen transports me | |
| into their agony | |
| i never really liked the building | |
| mecca to capitalism | |
| a garish ornament | |
| against a star studded Manhattan skyline |
| SO | ||||||
| WHY | ||||||
| DOES | ||||||
| IT | ||||||
| FEEL | ||||||
| THAT |
| S | ! | |
| O | P | |
| M | R | |
| E | E | |
| T | C | |
| H | I | |
| I | O | |
| N | U | |
| G | S | |
| was | lost |
| something elemental | |
| an essential part of our identity | |
| was severed | |
| and no memory of New York City | |
| lost | |
| is so New York | |
| as the memory of the World Trade Center | |
|
in
a Manhattan skyline |
|
| they come to me | |
| in the night | |
| sometimes | |
| their shrieks | |
| like sirens of yore | |
| lives stolen | |
| innocence lost | |
| never forgotten | |
| sometimes | |
| i hear them | |
| still |