MaNHaTTaN Linear

by Charles Pierre

I walk a random path through this desert
of asphalt and concrete: an urban nomad,
a caravan of one, with thick-soled shoes
and shoulder bag, who treks restless miles
along crowded streets, across hectic plazas,
beside massive towers and shaded parks,
where myriad people and vehicles
swirl around me like sand, in all weather,
by day or night, while I journey unnoticed
past each oasis, listening to jazz from clubs
and hymns from churches, the din of bars
and schoolyards, the haggle of markets
and talk on corners, the stadium cheers
and newsstand buzz: they sound within me
then fade to desert silence, as I walk by
on a lone route through trackless terrain.