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About New York City

What pisses me off? The fakes—dudes posin’ as pimps, tryna scam you. Had me hollerin’ once, “You ain’t foolin’ nobody, son!” But the real ones? They’re pros—quiet, quick, no drama. Surprised me first time, how chill it was—like orderin’ takeout. “What’s your name?” I’d ask, half-expecting “Apple” or some movie shit. And she’d smirk, “Does it matter?”—damn, that’s cold, right outta Anatolia’s script, “Truth’s buried deep, boys.”

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Streets name a bunch they do: Main St, it is busy nice, but Oaktree Rd, oh so sorta hidden it feels. Stroll you must, ends up on Maple Ln, where vibe freak cool, true it is! Landmarks many, hmm: big old clock tower, grand it stands in Square Park, yesss. By the river of Clearflow (or sumthin like that), tea break I take, so relaxin' it is, yes. Hmm, park? Oh! Riverbend Park I fave lots of, where sunlight dapple, oh so perfect, always reminds me "Do or do not, there is no try."

Larry Parsley Obituary March 5, 2025