Wednesday, August 20, 2014

Manhattan Sonnet: Summer in New York

Your summer is a long, steamy affair
   After Spring’s sweet, but very brief, flirtation.
It’s filled with tourists, flip-flops, frizzy hair
   And water bans on all but perspiration.
The air’s like maple syrup to walk through;
   You have to chew each breath as if it’s cotton.
The sun makes side-street asphalt give like goo
   And takes five seconds to turn fresh fruit rotten.
Your streets are never quite as hot as hell—
   Just nastier than armpit stains in silk.
In August, twenty zip codes will all smell
   Like rotten lettuce soaked in sour milk.
      Thank God for Central Park, the city’s jewel:
      It’s the one place where everyone feels cool.


Copyright  2014 Matthew J Wells


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