New York
by William E. Hazelgrove

 

Ah, my fellow New Yorkers. My heart breaks when I see the pictures every night. What have they done to your skyline, your soul, your heart. For you are the people of our country. We came through you and left Ellis Island for our destiny. Our Statue of Liberty, our subway, our huddled masses...we cry for you now in your hour of need. I have walked your streets late at night. I have ridden your ferries and your subway. I had walked your park.

I know those people who walked there before. The Sinatras, the Dimaggios, Marilyn. So who doesn't know the Yankees, Brookln, the Bronx. Who doesn't know Queens, Long Island, Manhatten. Our Empire State. Our Brooklyn Bridge. Our Dodgers. New York is America. Think on that. There is no other. I came in from the night and saw your lights from afar.

Now you bleed every night and day. We see tears up and down Broadway and Fifth Avenue and on Wall Street. C'mon we say, c'mon get up New York. Tell them all where to get off but she is struggling and all we can do is try and help from afar. The world city is on her knees and so it is with the world. New York does not belong to anyone. She is a spirit that doesn't sleep. She doesn't give a damn.

So we owe it to New York. We must all be New Yorkers now. So, c'mon get up. Show them where to get off. I know you can do it...c'mon New York. Don't let the bastards get you now...c'mon...get up...you can do it...don't cry...get up baby...c'mon...c'mon...don't cry...

 

*Bill Hazelgrove's first novel, RIPPLES, was published in 1992 and awarded "Editor's Choice" by the American Library Association. He is also the author of TOBACCO STICKS & MICA HIGHWAYS.