prospects for poetry

I had to get my car smog-checked today. A real bother, and money I'd rather not have spent. I don't suppose there's any poetry in the experience of a smog-test. There is, however, poetry in the prospect of a trip to New York City. I'm going in a month's time, and I've never been before (I reckon a night spent in an airport hotel in Queens because I missed my connection hardly counts).