Monday, March 13, 2006

I Did Not Find You In Kips Bay

I did not find you in Murry Hill
So I came back today assuming that I will

I never met your eyes on the busiest street
And I've given that a try every single day this week

We weren't introduced at the civil soure
So I've responded sil vous plais to another one today

I tell you,
These homes of Murry Hill look the same from block to block
I've seen them all twice, but who's counting the clock

And I bet you choose your food well so I took a job on the farm
And if you've been boozin' I've been sippin' the same harm

I smelled the spices on Lex, flipped my quarter entrance to the Met
I read and then I slept
On a bench in Herald Square where there was every sort of person
Why veil yourself from fair?

I hid in my room to catch up on restraint
But when I let it all go I forgot me the Saints

Ditched the city for a cruise down to Port Elizabeth
Where I searched in vain for you in exile skipping bottle caps off slips

I cursed your mother's name slow and low as to make it bleed
I spent my last penny like a gardener picking weed

I vow to love your father after I take him to the ground
And draw a map of mud on his back of all the pavement that I've pound

I walked through Murry Hill on my elbows and my knees
I improvised the Rosary for lack of a better lead

I dessicated coconuts and stuck 'em on the shelf
This way they's stay when we're done with crude rebuts
And dessicated selves

I danced on water in the center of the den
I danced on the seabed when it came to four a.m.
I sat on the steps at the foot of Union Square

Rode my bike through Murry Hill on a Sunday afternoon
To make sure things were still just as quiet as I knew

Took the bus to Kew Gardens and walked from there to Rego Park
This city is too big and it doubles after dark

I hope you're drafting notes as you avoid my deft forays
But please keep in mind
There is a better way

I had a drink at Murphy's thinking that's what people do
But after one more drink at Murphy's I was glad people wasn't you

I tried Brooklyn Heights as aggravate, Sutton Place as gyrovague
Prayers to our progeny, affairs just to get you frayed

I lost my mind and dressed the offspring of an Indian and a hawk
All along thinking worry'd step you in, didn't know you'd just gawk

Carved a name for myself, wore a tie and made the meeting
So from the fifty-ninth floor I could better elocute the Bleeting

Stole a bike, got that stolen, bought another, took a nap
When I woke up I was hungry, in lieu of your pussy I ate a snack

I traced the periphery of Murry Hill so I could pinpoint its center
Where in between the avenues I considered becoming a renter

I walked down Bedford Ave when I knew that you were looking
Was my perfect posture forced as I suffered through the whooping?

fled the city once again to cleanse myself through silence
The first sound I heard when I returned insolently was not your guidance

You can not find me in Murry Hill!
But I really gotta know where you think I'm hiding still.