Little Town Blues. Fuck You New York


German carton wallet
is no place to hide money away
not in notes or change,
cheques or the range of shit
you hide in there for ‘that special moment’.

New York is busy enough
without the thirteen minute thrill
of checking every pocket on your persons
for that lost $100 you need to buy 
big pencils, Rockefeller tributes and
endless refills from Time Square’s own MacDonald’s.
Instead, for a day I went poor-

sympathising with every bum I saw
sat on a cardboard plinth 
lonesome
with a hat out for a voluntary ransom.
Warm as you are New York, you
never helped me once.
my train was late, the room key denied entry
and now this is my fate:

Lying in a bed used by couples to copulate
whilst their respective partners sit at
home with their children waiting for their return.