I walk amidst unknown faces.
Oblong slabs dwarf me,
a thousand window eyes fill the sky.
Checker cabs linger,
street lights change.
Central Park roller skaters
and punk-rock new wavers
draw me in.
I climb five flights.
Wrist between mattress and neck
sounds seep in from
window square darkness.
Horns, accelerators beckon moisture.
God-sent breezes propel hidden gray clouds.
Beads of rain
cleanse city space pockets.
Water makes love to pavement
and blemished concrete.
Crisp flowing air soothes streets and human minds.
I shower, don white trousers.
In a cab I cruise through awakening arteries
Of sluggish old-man city,
bruised but rejuvenated
having napped and been sponge-bathed.
Jonathan Porter resides in Clarksburg, Maryland. He has been writing poetry for over twenty years. He lived in NYC briefly in the 1980’s. He was a school teacher until his retirement in 2019.