Source: Wikimedia Commons
Jimmy Joe, my friend, 
walked through the Wall Street,
thinking of the years he had spent minting
money, that he never needed. He let out a 
sigh, slid on ice and crumpled down on the 
ground like an old sack. Out from his 
pocket, came a weed. He smoked a 
pot, blew into his mouth-organ a sad song
that carried his past, that carried his present,
and his future. His life had shown him the middle finger,
for he had given it a fuck. He now wandered
aimlessly, thinking history will repeat itself
and he will be charging, sitting on the bull
that had been fed on money and not on
the love that was now, not his. He
had loved his wife, she was no Marilyn Monroe,
she had left him for another, 
when his shares came crashing down.
He was down in the dumps, but, even dumps 
wouldn’t take him, for, he had rejected them once.
He thought money could buy him happiness,
and it did, for sometime. But, he lost his happiness
and he lost his money, because, he forgot to be a human,
he forgot to be humane!
*As a part of NaPoWriMo. #21
*The prompt by NaPoWriMo today was: “to write a “New York School” poem using the recipe found here. The New York School is the name by which a group of poets that all lived in New York in the 1950s and 1960s. The most well-known members are Frank O’Hara, John Ashbery, and Kenneth Koch. Their poems are actually very different from one another, but many “New York School” poems display a sort of conversational tone, references to friends and to places in and around New York, humor, inclusion of pop culture, and a sense of the importance of art (visual, poetic, and otherwise). Here’s a fairly representative example.
In following the recipe, you can include as many (or as few) of the listed elements as you wish.
” 
*Also, do visit my friends who are participating in the challenge. You won’t be disappointed.
pooja

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