New York City sounds like steel drum buskers echoing in subway tunnels. It tastes like iced coffee on a hot summer’s day; smells like dry cleaned suits shuffling about downtown; and looks like mobs of camp kids holding hands singing songs in praise of a few months break from school.

And it feels like I’m close enough to taste it…

After a few days in town I’m reminded why this site started, NYC or bust. So as much as I’d love to divulge a bit more zombie details and sensory perceptions of my most recent city stomps… I’m going spend tonight painting my world in poetry.

I shall conclude this brief update on a confident note that a job is just around the corner… as well as a poetry book, feature length script and few other goodies…

Signing off to spill ink… feeling more inspired than time could ever permit me to explain… besides, that’s what poetry’s for…