NY First Impression Alone (2 of 2)

1956
a street called MacDougal
home turf of Dylan
Ginsberg
Pollock
O’Neill
Caribbean Restaurant
haunt of
Baldwin
Brando
Miller

And me
with my first cup a joe
at Caffe Reggio

out the window
where a pre-Woodstock love child warmed up
tokin’ peace and love
copin’ with undulating heat
risin’ above baking street
meltin’ sidewalk gum wads
spawnin’ grins from delinquent kids takin’ bets
on dancin’ feet
on angry feet

where barbers stare longingly
out cigar clouded windows
long hair the king
haircuts endangered species

me
them
didn’t expect so much hair
you know
such swirling hair
like shredded angel wings
whipping shoulder blades to fly
fly goddamn it

hims
hers
who the hell could tell
heroin induced flashing
parades up one side
down the other
never even gettin’ a raised eyebrow

here

where once I sipped espresso
never blinking
wanting to catch everything

wow

me
midwest born and raised
staring to grow up in NYC
must be a dream
swooning to myself
has to be a dream

man
that first impression
happening so quickly
scary
thrilling
New York City

returning to my Hell’s Kitchen hotel
(picked that special)
settled into my first beer
bells and whistles sounded
all it took at 18
with only 3 weeks into my first taste
(religious upbringing creates cheap drunks)
Schaefer brew
billboards sayin’ “Antonino Rocca’s beer”
flying drop kicker
black and white TV’s biggest draw
wrestling

of course I bought his brand

swirling in wind’s repressive heat
dingy curtains waved in and out my window
merciless captivity
this was Manhattan
I smiled
oh yeah
I smiled

tossed the shirt
grabbed a look in the mirror
sweat glistening atop my skinny frame
me here
all that out there

locked my door
popped another suds
dreamed
gotta get back to that madman’s playground
paradise for a wet-behind-the-ears kid

the real MacDougal street
‘til it wasn’t
‘til they tried to make it…
something else