Steven Deutsch
 
Pluviophile

Walking the steamy streets

of Alphabet City

after two days of heavy rain

 

I hope will never end,

the sidewalks smell

of a city left behind.

 

Friends lived here once

up on Avenue C

in a roach-filled, sixth-floor

 

walk-up protected

by three massive locks.

Yes, it was deadly here,

 

and the walk I take this evening

would have labeled me insane

or desperate. Yet I miss

 

the days when I might

meet a friend on any corner—

catch up over beer

 

and peanuts in that bar

on Avenue A —the one that catered

to roughnecks, punks, and poets.