One Mile down Broadway 

Stepping out of my office, it’s about a mile journey down Broadway to get home, but it is like I walk through a few different worlds. The construction that permeates lower Manhattan quickly gives way to City Hall and gargantuan government towers. There is always a homeland security police car outside the Javits building. The officer bullshiting with coworkers, neither protecting nor serving. 

Soon a deadzone, barely Chinatown but with English on all the signs. A Harley dealership punctuates the steady diet of shoe stores, furniture stores with “everything must go” signs and graffiti covered plywood. This are will be different soon and will have a fancy acronym to go along with it. SoSoHo, ETRIBECA, WOCtown. Real Estate agents will love it. The rent will be too high. 

Canal is swimming with metal sharks inching closer. On a mission to nick, but no bite you. The castle it protects is consumerism. Fancy brands, chic stores and the mermaids ever present face line this stretch of concrete canyon. Buy, spend, waste. The graffiti is largely gone and in its place is a super market the wealthy can’t afford. $45 for a tin of tea and bottle of grenadine. It’s here I turn of Broadway. 

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