Blog categorized as The City
About selling
They were never wrong;
The old cognoscenti in sports coats,
Spinning stories, sensuously salacious,
Selling art to suckers
Through their ears.
About people
They were never wrong;
The old guards
Shuffling past the Brueghel,
Listen for hours,
Pained by monologues
Of what people do ...
Nobody knows
Everyone wears the same clothes,
Except for a trendy scarf.
Nobody knows
There are lines of coke beneath the keyboards
And trash cans full of barf.
Nobody knows
This is a dying industry, dying like an old Hollywood starlet,
Dying for decades.
Nobody knows
The art of histrionics
Like media executiv...
In his mid-sixties,
Sometimes Art-Dealer,
Sometimes Importer,
World-weary eyes hovered
Over a three-day
Graying growth beard.
He glided up the path
Around the ruins
Of Erol Flynn’s old tennis court,
With Pritzi, his ever-vigilant
German Shepherd
By his side.
Sitting on a bench ...
He said it aloud,
Matter of fact;
“I’m just a schmo”.
And with that,
The axis of the city turned
Away from his creative self,
Away from his power,
Away from his youthful visions
Like the winter axis turning away from the sun,
Like a beggar knocking on a church door that never opens,
Like a wife who has ...
We keep choosing
And this is what we get;
Vacant offices and ghost exchanges,
Avatars of buyer personas
Walking through malls like vast catacombs
Waiting to be resurrected by a flash sale.
The same joke is told everywhere we go,
Like personalized license plates,
The same meme copied like fractals
Down ...
I
There we were, the two of us
Free again like first semester freshman year,
Free in the city, free
For the weekend, free from our lives.
With the city open,
With its constellation of lights,
The Boston skyline beckoned, in the air
Briny waves of beer, seafood, seagulls, and the sorrowful joys of grad...
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