a taste of ‘New York’

74 writers take on the Big Apple …

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Twenty-five years of marriage / and never missed a day. from Now and Then by Susan Tally

(It’s gone now but I had a Bob Dylan sighting there in the late sixties.) from No Time Like Snow Time by Karen Beatty

Day trips. / That’s how the subway got to be busy seven days a week. from Tokens by James B. Nicola

Downtown, the Statue of Liberty holds her torch proudly aloft. In the corner of Doctor Ginsberg’s office, a Star-Spangled Banner droops in the fetid summer heat. from The Fall from Freedom by Anita Davie

… he said on Facebook, “Wow! / I had to move to New Jersey! / It really sucks here!” from Peter Gutierrez by Mark Hudson

We booked a train leaving early / the next morning for arrival at 5 AM. from Glimmer by Faith-Anne Bell

They were between Graham Avenue and First when the train stopped and the lights blacked out. from Warren Peace by Ronald T. Hardwick

She holds the true record of immigration / back and forth to Ellis Island … from My Home on the Yankee Ferry by Margaret Sullivan

Kalmen Zalowitz, a native of Cluj, then part of Transylvania, arrived in New York a year before the Hungarian Revolution of 1848. from The House of David by Kenneth M. Kapp

The sun was setting as I walked to the gate. Its orangey rays glinted off the mirrored surface of a glass-panelled building in the distance beyond the airport. from We can send it by post by Joyce Loh

She waved him in, served Christmas cakes and coffee, chatted him up until closing time, and with compassionate deliberation added his name and phone number to the office C list. from Any Work for Clowns? by Pat Murphy McClelland

I donned my running shoes and shorts and trotted to the south opening of Central Park. from Night Watch by Kelley Jhung

What must it be like, caught in the headlights? / At New York’s John F. Kennedy Airport … from Fresh off the Boat by Mark Heathcote

Each day I walked the breadth of Fifty-Third Street, ferrying documents for signature to a multinational bank where the office cubicles exhaled chemical smells. from The Manhattan Transfer by Monica Sharp

The first week, using my entire allowance, I snared one orchestra ticket for their first Giselle that was so transcendent, I wept and screamed … from The Old Met by Stephanie Satie

On the sidewalk outside of Macy’s / a man in an overcoat approached us, / flashed it open … from NYC Stopover by Jan Chronister

When spring came I stopped eating soup and went back to the deli off Sixth Avenue to order an egg salad sandwich … from Manhattan Deli by Lara Frankena

The over-helpful, the bad seeds, / the pleasant patrons and the rude — / every day each one concedes / that heaven is an attitude … from Streets by Steven Ray Smith

Okay, so someone smashes the window of a liquor store, / a thieving raccoon masquerading as a man … from The New York Tourist by John Grey

Among the pigeons I strut and chortle / As if they alone know me … from Forbidden Fruit by William Butler

I drew my weapon and approached the Cadillac. From inside, I heard muffled moaning. from Wrong Turn by Joe Giardano

out of the black backpack / at her feet she pulls a fraying / piece of beige cloth with / an embroidery hoop … from Girl on the A Train by Karen Grove

My small hands always met my father’s crossing / a street in New York City. My hands are callused / now; large, like his, bending the fog and rain … from Father’s Wake by PM Flynn

After a rushed dinner, Carlos returns to the table and escorts them down the street to the apartment. from Bridie in the Bronx by Marianne Szlyk

Roars echo from the surrounding jungle / of throats, with swarms of mouths and eyes in tow. from Countdown Zone by Alexander Pepple

“Twelve dollars,” the cashier said. She had nails painted a lethal shade of red and a look that suggested she had seen the rise and fall of several civilizations. from Terminal Velocity by Marvin Garbeh Davis Sr.

You don’t move here to be happy. / You move here because staying where you were / felt like dying slowly. from Character Buildings by Tim Jarvis

We stayed nights in Manhattan, and went back to the fair two days in a row. from Summer of ’65 by Cynthia Gallaher

Above ground the ongoing chaos is concealed and forgotten. Hidden away from those who rely on it most. from Metal Worms by Tom Woodruff

I hear a door open behind me. I turn and see Andy Warhol. from A Visit to The Factory by GP Hyde

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