My Noo Yawk

I grew up on an island. The island of Manhattan. I still can’t believe it myself. I don’t remember my mom bumpity-bumping me down the subway steps in my baby carriage but she sure did. The rocking A train was the lifeline from uptown to downtown. So much has been said about my beloved island home that I’m at an actual loss for words. So, I wrote this silly poem and yes - poked fun at a NOO YAWK accent that barely exists now. But it did. I heard it and I spoke it too. Nobody tells the tale of this city better than Saint Sinatra himself, when he sings:

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I want to wake up in that city
That doesn't sleep
And find I'm king of the hill
Top of the heap

My little town blues
They are melting away
I'm gonna make a brand new start of it
In old New York

If I can make it there
I'll make it anywhere
It's up to you
New York, New York

 

It really is a hell of a town!