Tuesday, August 5, 2014

remembering New York, part I

the green lights
down York, perfect lined and crouching like giant
spiders or something kinder like
hens wings descending from above you, like an
awkward hug, you never felt
standing in the middle of the street, as if someone
sketched the City and you were living in the
quick black chalk marks, everyone else is
asleep. the green lights down

birthday candles, an airport runway.

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