Got A Jones For The City Poem by Timmy Curran

I feel the breeze
of underground gales
Smell the history of
dust, that lifts from
the rails, the men
playing music, the ads
for new movies,
there´s a picture so perfect,
products cost money,
but their smile seems worth it
The streets are levels up,
there´s Chelsea, Greenwich,
Boylston and Park,
where new worlds
are created after dark

Boom, boom, shimmey, shimmey
the rhythm of the city
never falters, no matter
where I´m sitting
The end of the day
drawing near to the sky
I lift a beer, say cheers,
brush off the sand
with a tingling right hand
Adios, it´s been fun
as the ocean swallows the sun