About: From Harlem to 42nd   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

The daylight was smashing Through my gunmetal frames I could see the teeming walkers Strolling like panthers Beside the row of rolling tires. At each quick coming intersection. I would have to stop and burn minutes away From the air conditioning system Of my curvy blackberry sedan. The cigarette smoke filled the closed car While I fidgeted with the yohimbe In it's little gold packet Wondering exactly what to do with it. There was probably a warrant out In that little truckstop region Where I'd bought the sandwich. Because I'd accidentally pocketed the gold.

AttributesValues
rdfs:label
  • From Harlem to 42nd
rdfs:comment
  • The daylight was smashing Through my gunmetal frames I could see the teeming walkers Strolling like panthers Beside the row of rolling tires. At each quick coming intersection. I would have to stop and burn minutes away From the air conditioning system Of my curvy blackberry sedan. The cigarette smoke filled the closed car While I fidgeted with the yohimbe In it's little gold packet Wondering exactly what to do with it. There was probably a warrant out In that little truckstop region Where I'd bought the sandwich. Because I'd accidentally pocketed the gold.
dcterms:subject
abstract
  • The daylight was smashing Through my gunmetal frames I could see the teeming walkers Strolling like panthers Beside the row of rolling tires. At each quick coming intersection. I would have to stop and burn minutes away From the air conditioning system Of my curvy blackberry sedan. The cigarette smoke filled the closed car While I fidgeted with the yohimbe In it's little gold packet Wondering exactly what to do with it. There was probably a warrant out In that little truckstop region Where I'd bought the sandwich. Because I'd accidentally pocketed the gold. I was among the pimps and hustlers of ninety seventh In their "For Us By Us" Jersey's and chains They crossed every which way In front of and behind my bumpers. While baby-mamas drove carriages Along the smooth walks of modern harlem. I felt no panic in the daylight Of a May Parade. Toward Seventieth I could start to make out the businesses And the street began to tighten The pace of all the traffic quickened one step at a time. As if each press of the break pedal Increased the speed incrementally I seriously noticed the weaving cabs Bright yellow with their tank-like grills. It finally broke my nervous system At around fiftieth when I saw The blinking clock Trussed to a twenty story building Flashing 3:16. For God so loved the universe That he brought me to it's apex... And I rode to 42nd And swung off left To look for parking The ramps were available But for what I had to give There was no room to slow down.
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