In celebration of a grey city morning

The sky is grey, the roofs glisten a lifeless red,
just rose from restless sleep in bed

Last night I inhaled tons of smoke
and had too much rum with my coke

Give this city boy some good country rest,
a tour in spring air and today will be blest

– Johannes Beilharz (© 2010)

Havent’s quite shaken off the effects of last night’s outing with friends in a smoker bar as you can read here in this silly celebration for napowrimo #10.


flaubert said...

Nice poem! Hope you feel better!

Wayne Pitchko said...

grey city mornign are to be celebrated also

Jeremiah's House said...

I like the flow of this poem

Rallentanda said...

I don't know how you continue to do it at your age. Good constitution I suppose.

Deirdre LaPenna said...

my nyc version:
redeeming snowy rooftops
upper east side manhattan
looking toward sunrise
12th floor blinking red for planes
and below the neighbor's hillocked roof garden
at night the jewelry of tiny glowing rectangles
infinite humans in that flying brick
the chirping of a small bird
a siren far then near then far
the rush of tires
a horn