Old New York

These will make magnificent ruins someday.
Our descendants will examine the concrete carcass
Of what their ancestors called modernisation and ask
Who did they build these monuments to?
Scraping the heavens with their spires
Aspiring to be gods seated on charcoal clouds
Conglomerates controlling the moon and stars
Lighting the streets in branded rainbows and
Feeding fringes of society with the residue of over consumption

Times Square Sisters

Three naked ladies in times square

Capturing the American dream in the dense jungle of Times Square
Like a Broadway play are three naked ladies in broad day
Breasts bare in blue red and white, guitar shielding skin no longer tight
Grand and erotic as the billboards that illuminate these dirty streets

Naked cowgirl, bra on guitar straps
Sunken eyes, weary dreams
“Two dollars a pop”, you string

Sisters flamboyant in patriotism, inviting tourists to your exhibition
Flash photography allowed, “five dollars” – sung serenely with seductive smiles,
Husbands, wives and teenage boys clamour to be between your breasts
Or fake shock with their open lips, yet let their eyes linger on or fingers click

Not a single ear listening to the
Khaki clad John the Baptist
With placard reading “Repent”


She wears the look of
Disapproving elders on her thick thighs

Lips, ripe as ancestral mangoes
Coated in moonlight berries

Hips, water carved valleys
Wrapped in ribbons of desire

An exile free in mind, true in spirit
What she fights for is unknown

But she speaks with goliath defying defiance
Slinging stones, praying for her victory to come.


autumn has brought with it death and despair
    as leaves combust and
dive, a withered heart is in repair

    winds have brought with them
the gales of expectation trapped in suspended breath
    with promise of a thrill at summer’s hem

        what a time for a fire to kindle
    when the trees are stripped
and the branches brittle