City Limits & Rain

     I agree with you that my New York is different from the next guy's but our cities are mutual. He may have seen what came before the figurines in the games workshop, but we both saw what came after. To the nail salon I say, how dare you! Unlike you however, I do tend to listen to other people's New Yorks. Even though their experience may be different, facts are facts. Yes, my Gotham Pizza is not your Gotham Pizza, but hey maybe I should check out the one on 87th and 2nd.
    More distant are the Brooklyn, Queens and Bronx people. The islanders are New Jersey to me. These folks might as well have experienced a Yew Nork City since our experience are worlds apart. I go to Starbucks, they go to the Park Slope café. My Central is their Prospect. Still, we are all but worms in the Big Apple. We all saw the fireworks, the ball drop and the marathon. We all have had a pretzel off the corner. We all have take Regents. I am proud to be spoiled by the greatest city on Earth. A city that evokes so much culture, film and music. Here's to the concrete jungle where dreams are made of.

    Sandy ate away at the FDR drive, caressing the poor highway with gentle swooshes of the east river. Below the surface, water ran through the tunnels filling the tracks like a fresh tube of toothpaste. 100 mile winds vanquished nearby trees, ripping their bark off like a sealed mozzarella stick. Trapped behind patched up windows. New York hid under fortresses of furniture. The parch was desolate, wet yet barren. The roots escaped indoors with people, else they would parish to the 1st avenue river. Just then the light bulb in the living room flickered a final goodbye before giving out. The prepared bought two dozen bagels. The foolish peaked a toe out which blew away never to be seen again.