I browse quickly at my tag cloud
impressed by artists
losing love
somewhere on the streets
of New York
amour
down the drain
barefoot
on cobblestones
losers of Paris–Roubaix
pigeons
with moves like Jagger
peck at the dead
or maybe just
debris
the ice man
no longer
cometh
’cause every call
is the last
good people
in cold room
flats
live days
railroad style
nothing here is ish
it’s the real thing
except no one
accept that it doesn’t
matter
at all
that it matters
greatly
and the view from atop
the bridge at night
is only outdone
by the sight
of approaching
river
© Chagall, 2013
Alphabet City 