Youth has infected the citizens, all believing that their life is infinite; yet…why do I leave? What will my spirit salsa to in the south? Disconnected from the steel drums and chilly raindrops, what will give me the beat to be brave?
I will stay silent and listen to the lull of the sunset as the New York skyline comes into my sight for the first time this years.
Five slaps to a cigarette pack
The cooing of a hungry child, sitting in a parked stroller on the 6 line
Even the tapping of feet has some degree of frequency.
Body and leather book covers blend in harmony
While the screeching of tires and tracks provide a decent crescendo;
There is a melody here, lodged deep within the soul of the subway.
Listen to how eyes dart from face to face,
Or the repetitive ranting of a young twelve-toothed girl
“are we there yet, are we there yet, are we th-“
Yes, we are.
And now, lights flicker in the seconds between stations
Reminding us that even darkness is temporary
But silence is…eternal.
Although these sounds can be heard they are only
Beats for my black body to bounce along to while my spirit
Maintains the same serenity that is found while flying
Above the city of daredevils, dying insomniacs, and dreamers.