Bowery Night
Sirens blare, Horns honk, Drunkards shout, Lights glare. From a club entranceway issues a strong female voice Shouting to guests: “Moth balls only, moth balls only!” Heat sears, Haze obscures, Darkness descends, Sleep eludes. Dollar bills in skirts and suits march down The proverbial avenue of poverty, The age-old din of Bowery reduced to moth balls, Mildewed flesh, stupefied hunger. […]
Recent Comments