#the bowery

[2othcentury]

The Bowery, Manhattan, New York, 1989

[itsagentromanoff]

Sebastian Stan

[chrisgoesrock]

CBGB on the Bowery in New York City 1988

[henk-heijmans]

Man drinking, The Bowery, New York City, 1953 - by Frank Oscar Larson (1896 - 1964), American

[coolthingsguyslike]

[str4wb3rry-fire]

i need to see a production of newsies where medda is a drag queen/transvestite. please. it would be fucking incredible. i need it in my life.

[kdo-three]

New Year's Eve at Sammy's on the Bowery by Weegee (Arthur Fellig) 1943

Weegee: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Weegee

[seniouesbabes]

Lily Maymac 🌸🍒💋🌸 • New York, New York

[wanderingnewyork]

A fire escape on #the_Bowery, #Manhattan.

[rummychap]

[marialeto]

Thursday January 4 ❤️❤️

Visiting buildings

Pizza and Beer celebrations

[hebblog]

The Sitdown by Rich Fie

:: A talk with some of the most prolific tattooers in NYC. Really great perspectives on how it used to be.

[travsd]

Windows on the Bowery

The Bowery Alliance of Neighbors has just launched their terrific new “Windows on the Bowery”” project, to which I was honored to contribute in a small way. To learn all about the who, what, where and why of the project read my new article in amNY here. I was at the project’s launch event at Cooper Union this past Tuesday (July 5, 2016) and documented it for your delectation. : The…

[serifgothic]

[maison-valerie]

The Bowery Hotel, NYC

[manwalksintobar]

Red Shift // Ted Berrigan

Here I am at 8:08 p.m. indefinable ample rhythmic frame The air is biting, February, fierce arabesques         on the way to tree in winter streetscape I drink some American poison liquid air which bubbles         and smoke to have character and to lean In. The streets look for Allen, Frank, or me, Allen         is a movie, Frank disappearing in the air, it's Heavy with that lightness, heavy on me, I heave         through it, them, as The Calvados is being sipped on Long island now         twenty years almost ago, and the man smoking Is looking at the smilingly attentive woman, & telling. Who would have thought that I'd be here, nothing         wrapped up, nothing buried, everything Love, children, hundreds of them, money, marriage-         ethics, a politics of grace, Up in the air, swirling, burning even or still, now         more than ever before? Not that practically a boy, serious in corduroy car coat         eyes penetrating the winter twilight at 6th & Bowery in 1961. Not that pretty girl, nineteen, who was         going to have to go, careening into middle-age so, To burn, & to burn more fiercely than even she could imagine         so to go. Not that painter who from very first meeting I would never & never will leave alone until we both vanish         into the thin air we signed up for & so demanded To breathe & who will never leave me, not for sex, nor politics         nor even for stupid permanent estrangement which is Only our human lot & means nothing. No, not him. There's a song, "California Dreaming", but no, I won't do that I am 43. When will I die? I will never die, I will live To be 110, & I will never go away, & you will never escape from me         who am always & only a ghost, despite this frame, Spirit Who lives only to nag. I'm only pronouns, & I am all of them, & I didn't ask for this         You did I came into your life to change it & it did so & now nothing         will ever change That, and that's that. Alone & crowded, unhappy fate, nevertheless         I slip softly into the air The world's furious song flows through my costume.