some cities make
magic-seeking
an olympic sport,
and others let you trip over it
on the sidewalk,
beside the overflowing trashcan,
behind the building
with the fire escape.

so sure,
new york,
you’re easy –
but trust me,
that’s a compliment coming
from a magician.
you have a million tricks,
there’s nothing but more corners
to hide your doves and
disappearing pennies.
you are a giver,
baby. a giver

of windows thrown open,
heads peeking out,
ears trained on the bouncing screeches of
emergency sirens, concrete drills,
and high-pitched laughs. yes, people
are crazy, and yes, I love them all,
and yes, there was that one man that shat
right on the side of the sidewalk,

but baby, being a giver
isn’t a bad thing. it is a conversation,
a comment, it is openness and lateness and
stereotypes breaking open
like an egg
to reveal breakfast.

new york, you are full of it.
you suck the marrow from my bones
like I never needed it,
but I am a giver too, so take it from me
take it all,
I know you need lifeblood,
and I know that I need you
running through my veins like 6-trains,
so I will donate myself to you.
be a charity.
be a poet.
be a drug addict.
be a yankees fan.
be all those things in east harlem,
at an ihop,
with bad teeth and a heart with golden
fillings.

be here and open
to waking up on a tuesday
just ready
for your life to change
and satisfied
for it to stay the same.

Photo credit: Jannes Glas on Flickr

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One thought on “(4/30) burrow in your boroughs

Gripe here!

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