the poetry

b r o n x

the hustle and bustle of the city fascinates me as my feet pound the pavement of the Bronx City sidewalks

spicy aromas waft into my nostrils as I pass a bodega on my right, and my mouth water from the thought of the made to order chopped cheese I’d had the day before

remembering how the cheese, mayo, onions and ground beef melt into each other between the soft hoagie roll slows down my steps for a split second; but I keep moving

playful exchanges between lovers and friends as they watch the children play fill the air with a beautiful loudness; for the first time in my life, I welcome the noise

Big Pun walks alongside me donned in suit and tie on the brick wall of Rogers Place, and I’, taken by this city bursting with sound and color

scattered amongst the murals, local artists have exalted the walls of apartment buildings and gas stations with creations from the depths of their imaginations

as I approach the door of the art museum, I take one last look around. then I close my eyes and take in all the sounds and smells before opening the door and stepping inside

with so much beauty outside these doors, I could not wait to see what beauty resides behind them


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