Thanks To Mom

Thrice my mom has come to me

To nurse me back from surgery

For a knee, a back, and fractured foot

To city streets she took

Picking up meds, food, and a treat or two

To lift me out of recovery blues

Watching movie marathons together in bed

‘Til the effect of painkillers knocked me out dead

Forced to shower on a chair

My head in the sink to wash my hair

She stood by my side along busy streets

To offer her hand when I felt weak

None of these tasks were ever too much

To yield a complaint, objection, or fuss

Not every mother is as caring and strong

But, lucky for me, this is my mom!

~kfu

Lost Smile

Has anyone seen her smile?

It’s quite contagious, spreading all around Manhattan isle

Normally, it’s difficult to miss
Like sunshine illuminating the darkest abyss

I last saw it peak cheek-to-cheek on a brisk spring day

Radiating across her face when he looked her way

Its warmth penetrating her admirer’s core

But since that day it’s been seen no more

What a pity if it’s gone for good

Fallen to the ground and left where he stood.

~kfu

Walk a Mile

If you walked a mile in my shoes,

Which pair would you choose

What streets would you cruise?

If you walked a mile in my shoes,

Would you feel the fatigue of years of city walking

Or have the stamina to take a pair of sneakers jogging?

If you walked a mile in my shoes,

Would you slide into designer heels

And saunter past velvet ropes to posh events and Michelin three star meals?

If you walked a mile in my shoes,

Would you cross the streets with purpose and speed,

Shunning the sluggard, begging out of hunger and need?

If you walked a mile in my shoes,

Would you stumble on uneven ground

And gather yourself after you went down?

If you walked a mile in my shoes,

Would you pause to pick up that shiny, new penny

And wish for the same thing that eludes so many?

Because if you walked a mile in my shoes,

You’d know the dream does not come easy

In this brutally competitive, cutthroat city.

~kfu

Sisters

Siblings on a subway

Giggling and gabbing aloud

In fake Long Island accents

Strangers try to figure out

Up all night bonding

Watching Buffalo ‘66

Vincent Gallo sporting tight, red pants

Spanning time in photo booth pics

Madge’s Confessions at the Garden

Hitting clubs ‘til 4AM

Gallivanting around downtown

Indulging our every whim

Waiting in line for Magnolia cupcakes

Eating more butter cream than we can bear

All of these Manhattan experiences

Something only my sister and I share

Friends forever, cohorts in crime

In any city, any time.

~kfu

City Pests

How doth the big, black rat

Improve his healthy gut?

By scavenging food around the flat

From fuzzy cheese to rotten nut!

How craftily he sculpts his nest

How noisily he spreads the trash

And cares not about the mess

Only munching his scrappy stash!

___

How doth the slow, gray pigeon

Improve his mating luck?

By approaching tails most forbidden

With an odd and awkward strut!

How rarely he preens his feathers

How lazily he spreads his wings

And in any kind of weather

An awful cooing is how he sings!

~kfu

My South Stars

In a city foreign to me

you were my guide

as I emerged from a mind boggling mass transit maze

two towering beacons of comfort

shooting solidly into the Gotham skyline

my shining South Stars

navigating me around these city streets.

Then one severely clear Tuesday morning in September

when not a blemish touched the sky

I stared dumbstruck down Seventh Avenue

where hours earlier you were bathed in a sea of blue

now plumes of ominous smoke surrounded and erased you

leaving behind cinder covered remains

and a lingering smell of death that crept north

suspended over the city for days.

Eight million silenced

unsettling in a city that never sleeps

streets left desolate

except for the faces of the missing masses

wallpapering hospitals,  churches,  police precincts,  and firehouses

a traumatic trail of tears

their images haunting

forever seared in my memory.

I wandered aimlessly

guided by the urgent call of sirens from fire trucks and ambulances

the only sound that filled the air

but my journey was cut short at Canal

yellow police tape and security posts erected there

rescue crews mounting mounds of rubble

your powerful façade disintegrated

except for a single steel beam rising out of the ashes.

Days and weeks passed

now, ten years have gone by

that bearded man was shot down in the Pakistan sand

and I am drawn to a new light in the sky

where I can stand in your footprints reflecting on you and say

you gave me courage to stay.

~kfu

A Letter To Irene

Irene,

The busiest global center cleared its calendar for you

Shutting down mass transit systems in your path

Weather bulletins posted and your presence boasted

For days the world awaited your wrath

Touted more than the week’s seismic hiccup

A phenomenon of epic scale

Lines wrapped blocks for food and water

In case electricity failed

Evacuations carried out along coastlines

To escape surges of flooding waves

Windows boarded and sandbags stacked high

Ensuring homes and lives stayed safe

But, alas, during those climatic hours

All you delivered were gusty breezes and light showers.

~kfu

How To Hang Like a Hipster

Traveling into Williamsburg

All aboard the “L”

Are hipster teens in skinny jeans

Their vintage Converse are telltale

Indulging creative aspirations

Bret plays in a rock ‘n’ roll folk band

They just scored their first gig last night

Mel makes art with her feet and hands

If you hope to catch glimpse of them

No snooty wine bars for this crew

They play pinball in beer gardens

While chugging mugs of local brews

They buy organic at green markets

Attend prestigious schools

And pay rent with Daddy’s money

‘Cause real jobs are so old school

I’ll offer this bit of advice to you

If you’re looking to make the hipster cut

Don’t wash your hair or shave your face

Instead grow some scruff and a small gut

~kfu

The Dormitory Security Guard

The dormitory security guard is a Jamaican woman

With a plump, middle-age figure and stoic stare.

She seldom smiles at the students she’s hired to protect

Simply watching them come and go, checking their ID tags

And only speaking when prompted in a Jamaican jive

That’s thick with accent and difficult to understand.

Taken for granted and unappreciated by residents,

She works a thankless, but necessary job.

~kfu