Drab discoloration
Of faces, façades, pawn-shops,
Second-hand clothing,
Smoky and fly-blown glass of lunch-rooms,
Odors of rancid life…

Deadly uniformity
Of eyes and windows
Alike devoid of light…
Holes wherein life scratches -
Mangy life
Nosing to the gutter's end…

Show-rooms and mimic pillars
Flaunting out of their gaudy vestibules
Bosoms and posturing thighs…

Over all the Elevated
Droning like a bloated fly.

Lola Ridge

http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/bowery-afternoon/