A Year In New York

A Daily Bite of the Big Apple

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Day 271: A Free Poem on Union Square

March 26th · No Comments

img_7042In March the Union Square farmer’s market is a meager proposition: onions, potatoes, and some apples. I spent a more fruitful time having a guy write me a poem.

“What do you want your poem to be about?” Benyomin Spaner asked. Benyomin was a floppy-haired kid sitting at a tiny gray typewriter that bore the sign “Free Poems.”

I had no idea. “March in New York?” I said.

He punched at the keys with two index fingers. He typed onto a white carbon, which made it impossible for anyone, including Benyomin, to read the poem until it was done and the paper under the carbon emerged.

img_7040When Benyomin was halfway down the page, an old man in sunglasses and black sweats fell down right next to us. “Oh God,” he said from the ground. Three of us helped him get up. He wrapped his female companion in a bear hug. His chest heaved.

As the man staggered off, Benyomin regained his focus on the typewriter. A few moments later he was done. “It isn’t very long,” he said, sweeping the hair out of his eyes. He handed me a long slender piece of paper. It read:

New York is beautiful,
it has grown beautiful,
it has grown mundane.
But how nice is March,
no, not nice, this is too weak of
a word. but March cannot be described
with words…only the feeling that
you get when it is only necessary
to wear two articles of clothing.
the transitions from curt looks
to helping an elderly man regain
his footing. The transition from
people that are sardonic to the
people that are unctuous.
It is a time when smiles, just
as easily as trees can pop and
bloom.

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Tags: Entertainment · Museums & Art · Personalities · Sights & Scenes · Why I Love This Town

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