3 years ago5,000+ Views
To begin with, there's
that thing; that abstract
quirky thing
that makes you invisible.

Daytime or night, the relevance of
ghosts in the city
can be lacking in many
many ways.

So if you want to be seen,
forget about it.
A farm house in Wisconsin
would be best
that case.

A small notoriety
comes when the
coffee shop patrons
at 5th & Broadway greet me;
Good Morning Alfred....
Mister Ely they say;
And then a curious, questionless wind visits the
front door.

Being a regular
affords a bit more popularity than the
average ghost
in The Big Apple.

I heart NY.

By far, the most delightful ghosting occurs on

Monday mornings.
0800 Eastern
to be precise;
when New Yorkers ~ frenzied ~ seem
dreamy details of
weekend jaunts through Central Park
cheese slices at Mama Rosarita's
with the
grease sliding down your arm.

Us truly skilled ghosts can manage
to catch commuters
off guard,
with a well timed fright;
exiting the 08:01 train
lost in thought
at Grand Central Station

while the
intermediate ghosts, recent

grads of ghost school, tend to
observe and learn. It's part of the
Expert Ghost curriculum;

required training

if you want to be licensed
to practice ghosting
in NYC.

The problem of turnstiles
and subway tokens
than you. That's the thing
with New York; you
can barely be heard
commotion; much less seen.

So if being heard is your thing...
A basement gallery in Lisbon
would do
In winter I suppose.

An upshot of the gig though is this....
ghosts in Manhattan
never get bored; we're too busy competing
for the attention

of Native New Yorkers;

however the pace is a tad too fast.

Because they tend to ignore you;

Oh, and they never return your texts.

Madison Avenue;
It's overpopulated
with sad ghosts. Dejected.
Standing lonely and alone on the
sidewalks of Manhattan,

holding their invisible heads down.

All they want is to be loved;
on a
human level.

The task of being a ghost in
Manhattan. Far
too complicated
a matter.

only if
the other ghost positions

already taken, or

if you're friends with Bill Murray.

Author Notes

Somewhat curious is the fact that Alfred Ely frequents the underground public transit system with a pocket full of tokens, even though ~ as one keen observer points out ~ the subway no longer takes tokens. The best I can guess is maybe he has tokens left over from circa 1869, before Alfred met with his untimely demise...death by chocolate...which is another story all together, one we shall scrutinize in a future compendium.

And with all his gallivanting to and fro, I think maybe he gets just a tad confused between the past and present. No bother, Mr. Ely always rides free, old boy has a distinctively longstanding pass, irregardless of the fare.

But anyway, he apparently is convinced those tarnished old tokens jangling around in his pockets will eventually rattle the attention of some unsuspecting commuter and startle the heck out of them. After 145 yrs of trying, you think he'd have learned better.
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I love this!! You don't think of the trouble that ghosts might have to go through to scare people. But just think, NYC can even hide their presence. Great representation of the city, and the whoas its brings to even its non-living folk @DJamesBreaux
Ely seems to like it there. Maybe enough to stay another few hundred years, we'll see. Understandable, the rush of the city is compelling.
I love this. really entertaining to read. it was a good little story that kept my attention.
This is really fun; many people don't consider poems as something that can really tell a narrative but focus only on internal feelings and emotions, this really challenges that idea because it tells a real story!
And the best part @Goyo, @onesmile, @KaitlynnJones and @timeturnerjones is....I'd almost be willing to go out on a limb and say we haven't heard the last of old Alred Ely yet....he very likely has some very compelling future exploits in store for us.