New York 9.24.19
Mornings with you are sweetly bitter
With last night's partiers still sleeping while standing half upright
And your breeze chilling me before the bursts of sun between your towering buildings.
It's calm and empty
Ish.
Yet, for now, I have chosen you.
Or you have chosen me
Wishful as it seems.
Though you’ve given me little of the concrete dreams I’d hoped for,
Today I am awake early, and it could be the most beautiful day of my life.
Though, I just felt 4 mysterious drops of city juice.
Sigh.
You entertain me with your brilliant people.
The characters who seem detached from life,
Yet remind me that it matters, literally, which outfit I chose
I'll always be a little stranger than the guy to my right
And a little more normal than the 5 to my left
Perspective shifts,
Pigeons shit.
New York,
Your people have long legs and little capacity to interact
People stare
Me too, I stare back.
There is an honesty in their stance
An insanity in their ability to plug along living inhumanely humane.
I’d like to honor you, New York,
With just the same amount of craziness that you’ve gifted me
So sometimes I don’t brush my hair.
It must be the rebel in me.
Yet, this morning I am gently in love with your sweetness
Despite the vomit-lined streets of St. Marks
And the strange smells beneath the scaffolding.
I have decided to enjoy your human population
And your street performers slightly drowned out by trains and sirens.
And for now, I have even decided to embrace you,
Even though, I think this means that I’ll have temporary treasure hunts for the sun.