Poetic License
Two weeks each year we live in style
In mid-Manhattan, our native isle,
In landmark buildings still kept whole
By tenant sub-lets and rent control.
With Metrocards to ease our way
Unlimited half-fare night and day
Riding our hole beneath the ground:
The Bronx still up, the Battery down.
With miles we earn as frequent fliers
We fly Jet Blue up from Fort Myers
And satisfy our tennis jollies
With free days at the Open “Qualies”.
We take in Art of every style
Along Manhattan’s Museum Mile,
The Met, Museo and Guggenheim
Show art from every place and time.
No muggers hiding in the dark,
Shakespeare’s now free in Central Park
And Broadway’s at its very best
With discounts from TKTS.
At the Cornelia Street Cafe
We read our poems on Labor Day —
Then bid New York a fond farewell
To dwell year round on Sanibel.