Garden of lost feathers: Highbridge park, 1978

Highbridge Park

Bundles clustered in the flickering head,
in the light-weight feathered-skull they multiply.
In this he saw hope for the hair-twirlers,
for muttering mad shufflers in day-lit hallways
shaking (his) tethered, floppy long-sleeved hands.

Once, in the green, when the graffiti was different,
once, under a hundred or so brushed layers of paint,
from The City in brick red and from the lost boys
in green and gold and rainbows spilling over,
daddy died looking for the caves under Manhattan.

Where the Indians once lived
where the junkies shot up and the cars rusted
or burst into flames as he ran from a million voices
where the birds always will sing and fly it turned out
father was right, not paranoid

Demons in the dark do multiply.

  • http://mandyallen.com Mandy Allen

    Sounds so like many of our inner cities here in the UK.  Sometimes the world seems a strange place for those of us who do not live like this.

  • http://www.facebook.com/tenhocabecadura Megan Clark

    Beautiful. Makes me think of Oakland. Amazing how small the world is - I recognized your name in the comments on Racialicious' "So Real It Hurts" repost and linked over to see it really was you. Hope all is well in NYC - keep the rest of us posted on OWS!

  • http://twitter.com/Aristadoe A R I S T A D O E

    I was trying to take some pictures of this spot last week, but to my surprise it's being rebuild.