What happened to the “Poetry In Motion” on the NYC Subways??? I would love to read the poems, as this writer at kidney, would be holding on, white-knuckled to the main pole, thinking of the germs living on it–Stripper Germs–Pole Dancer Mom, knocked up by Pimp Dad, the teen rebel teens(think the kids from “Married with Children” and have the “Love and Marriage” tune playing in your head incessantly, the grandkids from the missed Morning After Pill….And the ability for the kids to reproduce asexually…Okay, so I am messed up….By now, in my head they aren’t human…
I need something else to focus on, and if I stare too much at the man with the MNTs(Multiple Nervous Tics) quoting from The Gospel According To Himself, And The Voices In His Head…I will FREAK!!!!!!!
Where did the poetry go??? If the MTA hikes the price of the subway, am I destined to read and re-read the REPTILE DYSFUNCTION ADVERTISEMENT FOREVER???
Gigi, anxious after one too many coffees and seatless rides into The Big Onion.
(The Big Apple was called The Big Onion years ago…I kid you not…I think…Or did I call it that after my favorite hilarious newspaper?)