Poem Hunter
Sink Manhattan
JW (10.28.65 / Iowa)

Sink Manhattan

Poem By Joseph Wilford

We drove the car right onto the ferry
It was a rusted tangerine orange
It seemed a strange color for a boat
Everything was strange and new
So far far away from home

On the upper deck
I leaned over the rail
and watched cigarette butts swirl
in spirals of yellow foam
as we cut through the black water
Rotting shards of splintered wood
bobbed among the waves
Debris from sunken Pirate ships

I parted wind-blown hair from my eyes
and there it was
Looming Mightily in the distance
Like a long lost Atlantis
The City rose, unflinching
Teeth of glass, steel and concrete
bit into the sky
ate the horizon

I knew
It would devour me too

I turned to the voice
My Mother-still trying to focus the camera
I waited - not patiently
Back over my shoulder
It would not sink

I was so far from home
I'd probably miss it.

But not all that much.


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