It was raining yesterday. Yes, yes, it could be worse. But winter does not agree with us here at the Block by Block Project, as we are sure you have been able to tell. As much as we pump ourselves up to do so, we have come to realize that neither of us is going to be taking pictures when it is cold out. Sorry, that is just how it is.
But spring is just around the corner! We have been taunted with a handful of beautiful days and there has to be more coming, right?? Please, someone tell us this is true!
Alas, today is not that day. Instead, it is one of those days where we thank the New York City planning gods for these wonderful oases called "Public Spaces", such as the one on E 56th St in Midtown. And to do so, here is an Ode to the NYC "Public Space":
Public Space, crafted in beauty and light,
decked with tables, you welcome the weary traveler
or homeless person
inviting the drained to rest their throbbing head on their grimy surface,
your metallic bosom,
for you understand the fatigue that comes with dodging tourists
and riding the lumbering beast brothers named the 4, 5 and 6 trains
Powerful Public Space
thou art brilliant as thou art loud
echoing the songs of the birds who foolishly wandered into your inviting depths
now forever trapped in your unforgiving rafters
forced to live out the rest of their days scavenging crumbs
from when we sit to break bread together
(or Chop't Creative Salads)
Glorious Public Space
thy warm, albeit muggy, insides swarm with loafers, lazy butts, and interns
those poor slaves desperate for the feel of fresh air
but who will not step outside for fear of their master sending a messenger
to announce that the lattes were expected back 3 minutes ago
Charming Public Space
you supply the allusion of freedom,
housing those of us who
"just need to get out of the office for a few minutes if I am going to make it through the rest of this day without exploding",
for only you understand that Alex from HR really is a manipulative toad
and we do not deserve the wrath she emits during the weekly check-in meeting
Public Space, thy craftily hidden sign is eagerly sought out
by wanderers and nannies
pushing baby-laden carriages,
following the longtime Holy Map of Google
to your glittering sanctuary
so that we may sit and wonder at the ill-fitting and strangely phallic sculptures
that grace thy luminous courtyard
But spring is just around the corner! We have been taunted with a handful of beautiful days and there has to be more coming, right?? Please, someone tell us this is true!
Alas, today is not that day. Instead, it is one of those days where we thank the New York City planning gods for these wonderful oases called "Public Spaces", such as the one on E 56th St in Midtown. And to do so, here is an Ode to the NYC "Public Space":
Public Space, crafted in beauty and light,
decked with tables, you welcome the weary traveler
or homeless person
inviting the drained to rest their throbbing head on their grimy surface,
your metallic bosom,
for you understand the fatigue that comes with dodging tourists
and riding the lumbering beast brothers named the 4, 5 and 6 trains
Powerful Public Space
thou art brilliant as thou art loud
echoing the songs of the birds who foolishly wandered into your inviting depths
now forever trapped in your unforgiving rafters
forced to live out the rest of their days scavenging crumbs
from when we sit to break bread together
(or Chop't Creative Salads)
Glorious Public Space
thy warm, albeit muggy, insides swarm with loafers, lazy butts, and interns
those poor slaves desperate for the feel of fresh air
but who will not step outside for fear of their master sending a messenger
to announce that the lattes were expected back 3 minutes ago
Charming Public Space
you supply the allusion of freedom,
housing those of us who
"just need to get out of the office for a few minutes if I am going to make it through the rest of this day without exploding",
for only you understand that Alex from HR really is a manipulative toad
and we do not deserve the wrath she emits during the weekly check-in meeting
Public Space, thy craftily hidden sign is eagerly sought out
by wanderers and nannies
pushing baby-laden carriages,
following the longtime Holy Map of Google
to your glittering sanctuary
so that we may sit and wonder at the ill-fitting and strangely phallic sculptures
that grace thy luminous courtyard
Case in point: