The Old Building on the Way to Dad’s Office

by

05/31/2006

223 E 52nd St, NY, NY 10022

Neighborhood: Midtown

Like 0 Retweet 0

My dad worked in midtown at an advertising agency and for years as a young kid I would go to work with my him in the summers, just as a way to stay out of trouble.

We would always take the same route and on the way we would pass an old decrepit building sandwiched between two large contemporary buildings. I thought it to be odd and took note of it. Time went on and the older I got the less I would go to work with him. After a seven year absence I went back to his office and on the way looked at the old building, only to find a tall “Modern” in it’s place.

This is a poem dedicated to that old building:

Not abstract, not dificult, no intricate intentions intended, built because it was needed, wanted

At one point in time this building was magnificent It had class and character unlike the moderns

Many colors hid under the chips of other colors like an ice cream cone freckled with sprinkles

Carnation flowers covertly carved in concrete Old Victorian styled swirls and swishes

Stained gray walls with avenues of cracks, avenues that lead to other’s which

had no names, just like the street signed numbers Not a full step, nor a large step, but many is too many short little steps

How many times did one have to step, icy, chisled steps awkwardly loved those succinct seventeen steps

Rounded out concrete bit pieces, missing, different tints, red brick outlined pigeon shitted pieces

I loved that building in all its dread No one else stopped, no one else cared

It stood with broken pride for many a year and now it stands no more.

Now, it’s bravado chested successor stands among the bland.

Comments
Rate Story
1 Star2 Stars3 Stars4 Stars5 Stars (No Ratings Yet)
Loading...

§ Leave a Reply

Other Stories You May Like

Nearby Midtown Stories

The Green Sweater

by

It’s 5 AM and I am awake, too sharply awake, so sharply that reality is obscured. Chills crawl like ants [...]

The Playwright Takes Tickets

by

A playwright finds himself taking tickets in the box office

Did You Show Fear?

by

Please Don't Feed Me to the Animals

Transit Strike In The Diamond District

by Thomas Beller

On the first day of the New York City transit strike of 2005 I went to talk to Rosa Gutgold. She sells pearls...

Dissent is a Marathon . . . Not a Sprint

by

Mickey Z. takes aim at his critics in the Anybody But Bush (ABB) movement