This is another dark poem about life in an urban environment written while I was still in college.
As in "The Subway," I use a familiar landmark as a metaphor for the negative effect of life in an urban environment. Unlike the jarring free verse in the former poem whose cadence mimics the familiar, repetitive rhythm of the metal wheels of a fast-moving train clanking over the gaps in the steel tracks ("I don't want to see, I don't want to see, I don't want to see"), this poem uses a more soothing, "kinder, gentler" blank verse to deliver a no less disturbing message.
Central Park, for all its natural beauty and status as a verdant oasis in the heart of the city that never sleeps is just a polished, prettier metaphor of the oppressive effects of life in an urban environment. Central Park is no more natural than the "natural" habitat we reserve for lions, monkeys and elephants in a Disney theme park or polar bears and penguins at the local zoo. At least that was how I felt in my late teens. Much to the chagrin of even some close friends and family, I'm afraid my opinion has changed little on the subject since then.
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