The Buildings of New York

He believes in the art of the passive voice. Memories unbidden. Faces in black and white patterns, only recognizable when seen indirectly. Whispering “you are missed” en plein air.

A book called The Buildings of New York. Every creaking stair step. Piss on the door stoop. Partial sky view above a canyon of stacked lives.

In a time when things still happened.

To him.


About Ray Sharp

Father, poet, triathlete, local public health planner
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2 Responses to The Buildings of New York

  1. mrsorenson says:

    Oh. This sneaks. And then it goes around and sneaks back onto itself. It is as clever as it is dramatic, and as full as it seem empty. I am left imagining! Thanks.

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