walking down 1st Avenue looking at what used to be the Irish taverns…the pubs…where horses were bet-on…books were made…all bets were off…guys talkin’ straight…pint after pint after pint…while corned-beef sandwiches were served by Paddy…or Johnny…or …..some Mick name….WASPS NOT WELCOME….

drafts of Harp…Guiness…Murphys…with black-n-tans and whiskey whiskey whiskey….guys using parking meters for walking sticks….struggling in Hell’s Kitchen for their time spent in Purgatory….sins paid for while other debts lay in wake…

tabs unpaid…killed-off before coupon redeemed…bartenders listening and souls cleansed…no broad’s allowed…gather ’round boys….

and times change….1st Avenue is no longer….Hell’s Kitchen…. no longer….New York….no longer…

a man is not a man….a minch not a minch… and a Mick just a fashion complete with a Celtic Knot branded to upper arms…