Sunday, July 10, 2011

Rain Falls On Manhattan

I sit, perched on a green leather couch in Future Tan
Waiting for a friend to get her New York tan
Looking out at the circus that is Forty-Second Street / Times Square
Through a water-streaked window resembling a tear-stained face
Droplets pound the pavement, disturbing dirt and grime
Frantic people rush from buildings under cover of the New York Times
A man without an umbrella or raincoat tries to hail a cab
They rush past, fast, furious, never slowing, never stopping
It’s 6:20 p.m.
Street vendors scurry to close collapsible carts carrying soggy pretzels and hot dog buns
Don’t Walk signals rapidly flash bright red for danger
A man sprints across the street, dodging murky swamps of muddled rain
A careless few wander off the curb, waiting, oblivious to their mistake
A cab flies by, splashing dingy water on Armani suits
The assaulted recoil, cursing and screaming inaudible screams
Onlookers point, snickering and laughing inaudible laughs
The man without an umbrella or raincoat stands soaked, still trying to hail a cab
They continue to rush past, barely breaking as they cut the corner curbs
It’s 6:30 p.m.
My friend exits her tropical paradise, flushed and confused
The activity below us unfolding like a scene in a Broadway show
Together we watch the sky close its eyes and weep on Manhattan


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