I.

 

Right now, and here

New York is under threat

But I have no fear

 

I cannot think of anywhere for me

There is no place else

I’d rather be

 

I love this city

This tranquil greyness

In all its passionate gritty

 

I see that beacon of light

Embracing ten years past

Calling me to remembering that sight

 

When all of humanity looked this way

I smelled the burning of steel and flesh

For weeks to stay

 

Rare the time to pause or walk slow

This is my New York

Strong and firm we’ll forever grow

 

 

II.

 

I love to be a

Minority on the subway

I love that I could go

A day without speaking

My native language

Reading my native script

Or seeing someone the same race as me

And yet still be at a place I call home

 

I love these Hindus and Buddhists

Jews and Muslims

Catholics and Protestants

Mormons and Native Americans

I love these Chinese and Japanese

Italians and Irish

Germans and Polish

Mexicans and French

Palestinians and Yemenites

Israelis and Argentineans

Indians and Iranians

 

I’ve never known love

Until I lived in this city

It’s mangled grids

Of horn honking cabbies

Its unions of construction workers

And mobbed-run bakeries

Its high art in Chelsea

And low in Williamsburg

Its corner Halal carts

And fleet of food trucks

Its underground rats

And over ground roaches

Its green parks and winter storms

Its Dumbo, Tribeca, and NoLita

Its Riverdale, Brighton, and Woodside

Its H&H Bagels, Shake Shack Burgers, and Nathan Hot Dogs

Its Omas & Opas

 

 

III.

 

We are cultural warriors

A fortress of differences

Always united and proud

To be a “New Yorker”

 

There is no tomb

Id rather be in

But in the tomb of

The grey skyscrapers

And brownstones

That line my city’s streets

 

When New York falls

The world watches

When New York rises

The world watches

 

This is not America

This is New York

The city I love

 

 

© 2011 David Greg Harth

11.09.18.21:11:49@130BklynNYC