Times Square

We were white-washed by Times Square,

as if man had willed

it shall always be day.

Spiting nature’s rhythms,

‘look what I made’

You stole light

to sell creams,

your light doesn’t warm

mesmerised

by the blue screens

of Mad-men spun yarns

who built sky-scrapers to block out the sun

then search for a south-facing window for one.

You sell your soul

yet barely make rent

but ‘…now you’re in nyew yoorrk’

as if geography is achievement

the city that never sleeps

she eats

tourists for breakfast

and shits out immigrants

for a few dollars more

even display their tenements

only you could build

a monument to advertisement.