Five Senses in the City

John Grey


Subway wheels squeal on track.

Car horns blast.

Babies scream.

Mothers scold kids.

Briefcases slap against the thighs

of business types.

An argument breaks out on a sidewalk.

A boombox pounds

a bass oceans deep.

That’s the ears taken care of.


And then there’s the eyes.

Brown river.

Gang tags on brick walls.

And the nose.

Sulfur fumes from the construction site.

A waft of corn beef

through the door of a diner.

And taste.

That two-dollar hotdog

overflowing with relish and mustard.


Make no mistake,

you’re in the city.

Now fondle your credit card,

get a feel for living here.