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from the Uppity Blind Girl poems
"How much noise pollution do we need? I've never...seen a blind person cross the street by themselves." Peter Renehan, The Gothamist
Never unseemly awaken the sleeping city
from its pastoral dreams of sirens,
falling cranes, rabid rats and car horns,
tapping your canes, Seeing-Eye dogs,
by your side, chomping-at-the-bit
to save your own hide. Too much drama,
too much noise pollution. Don't listen
to these annoying, histrionic, electronic
birds, nesting in innocent traffic lights,
chirping from morning to night, world
without end, o dread, disturbing
the peace of the living and the dead,
so you'll know when to walk, at 7 or 2 am,
across the street. Must polite society
hear the incessant tweets of do-gooder birds
so, you can go, solo, on midnight rambles?
Be a bard, seer, or singer,
just don't dare to walk by yourself,
guided by clamoring, yammering
birds. Give a hoot, don't pollute.
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