West Side Highway
sparkling water
Jersey Palisades
34th Street
whish
42nd Street
whish
57th Street
USS Intrepid
96th Street
whish
125th Street exit
Malibu Hotel
Broadway, between
102nd and 103rd
eccentric
convenient
a bit of a dump
who cares?
just a place
to shower and sleep
Gristede's
Petland Discounts
El Taller Latino Americano
Rite Aid
West 104th Street
Ben and Jerry's
Hot & Crusty
Juanito Unisex
Super Discount
Eden Cafe Bar
a couple more
turn right
West 105th Street
Silver Moon Bakery
Metisse
The Abbey Pub
tell Sharon that old joke
downstairs in the Abbey
how can you tell
if an Irish guy is queer?
he prefers women
to drink: she barks
with laughter, stops,
stares grimly into space:
her last two lovers
were Brian O'Callaghan
and Aidan McCullough;
oops, put my foot
in it again
Jeff from Drogheda
takes me to
a "real" Irish pub
near Mama Mexico
full of black people
like Louis and Troy
and Ali
from Ethiopia
who spent eight
and a half years
in jail
and never wants
to see his country
again.
I tell him
helpfully
how the Irish
are the blacks of Europe
inured to
centuries
of oppression
persecution
colonialism
and repeatedly
and intentionally
and joyously
and continuously
disloyal
to foreign masters --
a pox upon them!
Ali views me
speculatively
blinking
over his spectacles
as if, somehow,
I had
unexpectedly
materialised
from under
a disguised
trapdoor
hidden beneath
his trusting
neatly shod
twinkling
toes
Say it long and say it loud
Oi'm black and Oi'm proud!
The pints unbidden
line up on the bar
laughter
bewilderment
and a series of toasts
to Martin Mac Luther O'King;
young smoky-eyed
Alison, behind the bar
is half-Scottish
and doesn't think
she's really
all that black
but slides me a free pint
for the thought
that's in it.
Streeling home
under unseen stars
under a slightly
orange sky, attended
by the whoops
of police and ambulance
sirens, the constant
rush and roar
of never-ending traffic.
New York, New York
is a wunnerful town
the Bronx is up
and the Battery's down
My batteries
were low and slow
in the morning
as we hurtled
beneath
the belly of the beast
to 86th Street,
a stroll through the park
and the discovery
that the Metropolitan
is closed on Mondays:
a memory flash,
the Happy Mondays -
where are they now?
(shattered & shivering
in Manchester)
Take your Metrocard
and stick
it in: the buses
and the subways
love it, can't get
enough of it,
Oooohh!
St Patrick's Cathedral
built by the pennies
of the Famine Irish, a soaring
neo-Gothic testament
to tribal values and bad taste;
embarrassingly huge,
bombastic, imitative,
empty; soon afterwards,
MoMA down the road
wanted twenty dollars
to view their paintings
so I laughed
and walked away
having stood in line
for twenty minutes:
in such small incidents
a lifetime of conviction
finds instant expression
Penn Station
(Joe Louis Plaza),
squinting upwards
at the carved inscription
on the Post
Office Building:
neither snow
nor rain
nor heat
nor gloom of night
stay these couriers
from the swift completion
of their appointed rounds
And:
the perfect meal
is one click away
zagat-dot-com
Tir na nOg
(Land of the Ever Young)
Irish Bar and Grill
Donal and Pronsias
from Donegal: Tony Jackson
the Leitrim Dandy
still working the door;
my fifth, or is it
sixth or seventh
visit since
the innocent, pre 9-11
summer of 2001?
Ground Zero:
a gaping hole
in the heart of the city
an ominous absence
like a missing tooth
like an amputated leg
a constant sad reminder
of all the things
that have gone wrong
and continue
to go wrong
since that lazy
indolent summer
of the missing intern
and shark attacks.
Later, on 42nd Street
(we get around)
the yellow cabs
avoid collisions
with insolent
arrogant ease
accelerating around
the very empty
US Army Recruiting Center
and the signs
that say
Don't
Even
THINK
Of
Parking
Here.
On the house,
says lumbering David,
known as Buffo
(Big Ugly Fecker From Offaly)
in the Blarney Stone
near Nassau and Fulton;
we're a few steps uptown
from the SWAT teams
and assault weapons
on Wall Street
where the business
of America
is business.
Crash, rattle
and bang
on the C train
to 34th Street
then transfer
to the Uptown No. 1
"Boy, oh, boy"
say the headlines
Michael Jackson
beats the rap
Don't
Even
THINK
Of
Living
Here
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