The Tall Buildings of Manhattan, and: Shoes

VICTOR CONTOSKI THE TALL BUILDINGS OF MANHATTAN 1 Dawn conies up over the East River, over the skyscrapers of Manhattan. Far out into America, into the Alleghenies, the central woodlands, and the prairies stretch the long shadows of tall buildings like the fingers of their owners. High up in great apartments live men so rich nobody knows their names. They see only each other. Their food goes up in baskets. Their excrement comes down. Their fragile women gather on balconies combing long, soft hair. Far below they see the sons of the poor like little toy figures. They let their hair down. It reaches only to the 27th floor. Like dumb beasts the sons of the poor cry and turn away. 36 They turn inland to make their fortunes, dreaming of the hair of New York women. And the long, long shadows of the tall buildings of Manhattan fall on their backs like whips. SHOES 1 Entering my shoes is like entering the woman I love. Every morning I tie them to my feet like wrapping presents to myself. If you love someone don't give your heart. Give your shoe. Like Cinderella. When Daedalus made himself wings he was unfaithful to his shoes. They never forgot. They killed his son. When Jesus walked on water he went barefoot. In the Garden of Olives when Judas kissed Him he also stepped on His toe. 37 An evil magician ran a string through the eyeballs of beautiful girls to make himself a necklace. The eyes of my shoes are beautiful and blind. My feet have long since lost the road but my shoes know the way. When I kneel down they point into the ground. I will die with them on. LYMAN ANDREWS MANHATTAN SNAPSHOTS (for Serge Fauchereau) grey fur & ice the city! jagged flowers thrust through the cement streets whores make bright splashes in dark corners androids blank-eyed ignore them 38 ...