new york

i met the Anonymous faces of the 21^st century the other day, while walking through neon-colored streets, the ones squatting outside the subway, asking for a CHANGE, the ones riding the metro heading to work, heading home, heading Nowhere, the ones wearing NO WAR shirts, mouthing off John Lennon’s words like its nobody’s business, the ones that got Busted with a grin on their face for smoking weed in public places, the ones preaching a new day, a new way, a new Beginning, the ones crossing paths with Kerouac, and plotting revolution in their heads like Che, the ones that were mad at people, mad at the Futility of struggle, mad at themselves, the ones that kept singing Hotel California but Woke up each day in manhattan, the ones embracing the cold new york night, buying, selling, or doing Both, the ones walking proud with Macolm as their lead, Martin as their Dreams, Jazz in their souls, the ones that wept and slept, smoked and Left the Town. i wonder which One i'll become.