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new york
i met the Anonymous
faces of the 21st 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.
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