Manhattan
Like termite mounds
these dwellings of humans rise
Everyone of his own purpose
lives and walks this busy maze
Many a good man has lived and died
held in the spell of this dizzy haze
The lure of the maze
transcends all class and grade
The prostitute and the saint
the musician and the actor
and of course the slick businessman,
all come to do their own trade
If you walk a mile, you can smell it all
the stench of
prosperity and poverty
food and filth
sin and sainthood
life and death