The Sidewalks Glisten

The sidewalks glisten
with the spewed mucous
of a million straight men
and old Chinese women.

Children of color
run down the street
calling each other
“nigger, fag… motherfucker.”

Sometimes laughing, bouncing basketballs
on said slimy pavement,
trailing shiny potato chip bags
and empty candy wrappers.

White girls with pointy elbows –
euphoric smiles and far-away gazes,
chattering on their cell phones,
not noticing Jesus Christ
in front of them,
or oncoming traffic.

I wish I had a dime
for every time
they use the word “like.”
I’d be a very rich man indeed.

There are 40 million rats
in New York City,
and billions of cockroaches,
along with pigeons, a few eagles
and one lone coyote.

All creatures are sacred
to an indifferent god
in the city where
the sidewalks glisten.