There’s a ton of the twist- but we’re fresh out of shout.
August 14, 2010 § 3 Comments
(I can only do 5 minute writing exercises lately)
Because it is chic to write about new york as being alive and a friend whom you may not so secretly hate, but love to know:
New York i love you but you’re bringing me:
anxiety and pupils the size of melons and knocks on my door and thick packs of mail that have so many versions of my name
and people who call my names
and trees that fall down across driveways-
who say fuck you
before i can first
and small children who will grow up into
complete bastards and ruin
turning them into soil cores and plastic tops.
New York you’ve got a cool license plate
and a big juicy red Eden apple that rotates like the earth
on an axis between the East River and the Hudson
spinning polar energies into
who couldn’t learn French, love to read books
and get wasted and give handjobs on dancefloors-
then get into cabs, forgetting it all.
New York- you make me cry in supermarkets
and sweat in bodegas. you make me smoke and make me hateful
and zip up my problems and prod me to smooth-ooze into the winter
just as the roads loose friction.
you make me escape you and you make me love all of the people who claim
our zipcodes but don’t code well with others.
i have loved several other places.
i wanted you to know.
pictures are next.