Invisible Man on Broadway
A poem
Firstly, listen to this excerpt of the poem on YouTube. This was recorded on the Beta version of Hedra.ai a new test-to-video app.
Now here is the full poem:
He’s a living statue, bronze-still against
the rush hour tide, arm outstretched
like Lady Liberty’s torch-bearing limb.
His cardboard sign, a flag of surrender
fluttering in the wake of passing cabs.
The city flows around him, a river
of pressed suits and briefcases,
of lattes and smartphone screens.
He is the pebble they part for,
barely a ripple in their day.
His eyes, clouded windows to a past
where he was someone’s son, someone’s hope,
now reflect only the neon and steel
of a world that has no use for broken things.
At his feet, a paper cup,
a secular offertory plate
waiting for the clink of absolution
or at least enough for a meal
that isn’t seasoned with shame.
The light changes, crosswalks flood.
He remains, rooted to his spot,
a human parking meter
collecting the loose change
of hurried compassion.
