Indecision

Same like the riddle of which came first or
what happens at the crossroads
and if it involves the selling of souls,
What happens when the city of dreams
bright lights and apple flavor becomes a modern day Attica?

When the spotlights that line Ol’ Broadway
are searchlights illuminating prison numbers like train lines
monitoring the blank, the faceless and the nameless
can I remain here to find my name?

Between 3, 4, A and B47/B46
I scurry to find the shade concrete can’t give,
listen to the waves as they crash in
exchange them for the roar of a platform
devoid of sun - teeming with souls breathing with one beating heart
inhale - watch out for the closing doors
exhale the futility of running to catch a train as it departs

Can I trade the vehicle that wiggles,
five toes painted pink, red or mauve,
for the stillness of footprints on sandy beaches,
carve OP was here
or always wonder - was she really?

Peace.

- The Orange Phoenix

The Orange Phoenix © 2008 Urban Observation All Rights Reserved.