First I see the glimmering wilderness of characters on the stoops outside the doorway, and farther down the block near the subway station is the world singsong of wisdom and money. There’s an old man with half a leg who sits on the curb near my bus stop - he holds a sign out that reads, “Pass the stranger and find out that yur the man ya been passing all along.” And sometimes the man’s hat has money.

Virtue of a human character is something that drives itself deep into the hearts of those city-dwellers who are willing to open their minds and hearts to the purity of the bums at their doorsteps. From the suffering homeless to the bawling trumpet players whaling Bird and Dizzy, to proper doctors driving their hundred-thousand dollar convertibles - all these characters and millions more come through the field of vision in New York City.

Devour every aspect and pass judgements.

Crawling through these dizzy streets,
I hear a gull call the East River.

Urban Reflections



home    



© 2002 Vainglory