Andrew Glaze’s poem “Reality Street” offers a vivid snapshot of mid-town Manhattan in the early 1970s, transforming the mundane commute into a poetic exploration of urban life. More than just a description of a bike ride, the poem delves into the raw, unfiltered essence of a particular place and time, making “Reality Street” a compelling piece of observational verse that resonates even today.
Glaze’s poem opens with an intimate scene: navigating a bicycle down apartment steps, a daily ritual imbued with the small realities of urban living. This simple act sets the stage for a journey through the streets, immediately grounding the reader in the physical world. The mention of “Puerto Rican neighbors” and brief exchanges paints a picture of a diverse and interconnected community, hinting at the social fabric of the neighborhood. The neighbor’s subtle observations about the “American with the suspiciously Spanish-looking wife” and the act of riding a bicycle – “Who rides a bicycle but a boy or a fool?” – introduce themes of identity, perception, and perhaps a gentle mockery of societal norms.
The poem quickly moves from the personal to the public sphere, declaring, “The sidewalk is reality.” This bold statement establishes the street as the central stage for the unfolding drama of everyday life. The lament for the lost tree, “pissed on and beaten,” serves as a poignant symbol of urban decay and the relentless march of concrete and human detritus. The tree’s replacement by “beer cans and candy wrappers” starkly illustrates the less romantic, more realistic markers of human presence in the city. The scene shifts to the “bums in front of Garcia’s,” their watchful, albeit “not unkind” interest in Anselmo, reveals a hidden community within the urban landscape, a quiet camaraderie amidst the grit. This vignette of mutual care, “two of them pick up a third who had fallen off his egg crate,” humanizes the marginalized and underscores the unexpected tenderness found within “Reality Street”.
The bicycle journey truly begins as the speaker pushes off, “against the traffic on the wrong side,” immediately establishing a sense of rebellion and a breaking from the expected flow of city life. The description of “Reality Street—littered with dog shit and broken auto parts, full of holes and broken glass” is unflinchingly realistic, painting a picture far removed from sanitized tourist brochures. This is not a romanticized New York, but the “Reality Street” of potholes and debris, a testament to the wear and tear of urban existence. The mention of “policemen in no-parking spots” and their “lodge signs” hints at the subtle power structures and unspoken rules that govern the street, a layer of reality often unseen by the casual observer.
The poem accelerates as the speaker weaves through traffic, “sliding between the front bumpers…and the outside doors of cars,” a thrilling, almost reckless act of urban navigation. This moment of “flying!” provides a brief escape, a physical exhilaration that momentarily eclipses the “broken foot” and the surrounding urban decay. However, this exhilaration is quickly interrupted by the “paddy wagon,” a stark reminder of the city’s underbelly and the ongoing “war sweep on Eighth Avenue.” The “wigged and raincoated” girls, “bored and angry,” represent another layer of “Reality Street”—the often-hidden world of sex work and the cyclical attempts to “clean up the Avenue.” Their indifference to the whistling onlookers and joking cops highlights the dehumanizing aspects of their situation, a stark contrast to the earlier camaraderie of the bums.
The journey continues, moving into the bustling intersection where “Everybody turns at this place into 54th Street from Eighth Avenue.” This point of convergence raises questions about the motivations of the city’s inhabitants: “Are they going to the Municipal Parking Lot…Or to the unemployment office?” Glaze captures the anonymous flow of urban life, the masses moving towards their daily obligations, their individual stories submerged in the collective movement. The brief, poignant memory of Alan Hovhaness, the composer with his “tall, hesitant, disjointed walk,” adds a touch of artistic melancholy to the streetscape, a reminder of the diverse individuals who populate this “Reality Street,” each with their own inner world.
Crossing Broadway becomes “a sort of adventure,” a shift in tone that reflects the heightened intensity of this iconic thoroughfare. The “invincible instantaneous daredevil” within the speaker is tempered by “security and dutifulness,” a necessary adaptation to the chaotic energy of Broadway. The description of Broadway being “always being excavated” and the whimsical speculation about the Mafia digging a “mysterious subway to Sicily” injects a touch of humor and urban myth into the poem, acknowledging the ever-changing, often unpredictable nature of the city. The bicycle navigating “hole after hole like waves” becomes a metaphor for resilience and adaptability in the face of urban chaos.
The poem concludes with a series of sensory details and observations as the speaker approaches their destination. The “crazy poster store” filled with “Raquel Welch’s breasts, girls with steak quarterings on their rumps, blonde nudes climbing cliffs, Nixon taking a dump” is a sensory overload, a pop-culture snapshot of the era. The mundane act of buying a newspaper becomes a moment of personal connection as “The clerk asks me about my foot,” highlighting the small, often unexpected human interactions within the urban anonymity. The journey culminates at the destination, marked by the “kegs of Schaefer beer booming down in the belly of a bar” and the contrasting scene of “Japanese tourists craning their necks” at the Hilton. This juxtaposition of local and tourist, mundane and exotic, further enriches the tapestry of “Reality Street.”
The final lines bring a sense of arrival and a reflection on the journey itself. Unlocking the bike and chaining it up becomes “Reality too. Adventure with prudence,” encapsulating the poem’s central tension between the thrill of urban exploration and the necessary caution for survival. The concluding thought, “I’ve made it once again without re-breaking my foot,” brings the poem full circle, back to the initial vulnerability and the everyday triumphs of navigating “Reality Street.” The poem ends with a touch of self-awareness, “—Look how they’re watching me-. You actor! A bicycle in two pieces! Such elan!” acknowledging the performative aspect of urban life and the subtle acknowledgment, or perhaps imagined acknowledgment, of the speaker’s presence in this vibrant, chaotic street.
“Reality Street” is more than just a poem about a bike ride; it is a poetic documentary of a specific time and place. It captures the gritty reality of 1970s Manhattan with unflinching detail, humor, and a keen eye for the human drama unfolding on the sidewalks and streets. Through Glaze’s vivid imagery and observational prowess, “Reality Street” remains a powerful and relevant exploration of urban life and the enduring allure of the city’s raw, unfiltered reality.
