Tagged: streets

i tuck memories

i tuck memories
into each corner of these
city streets – cross, do

not cross, pivot, turn around –
messages from another me


on the wet streets of

on the wet streets of
chinatown, there is something
for everybody.

we pick up our pace, not ready
to become ensnared, indulgent

on the streets of love,

it’s all well and good

it’s all well and good
to state that we will not show
up, that we will take
to the streets, show
solidarity by stepping out
of housework, child
care, maybe apply
some self-care at
the local beauty
parlor, therapeutic
spa. meanwhile, a
host of silent women
will step in
to fill the gap, make
the lunches, file the
nails, listen to and
nod and listen to the
ones who insist on
being heard

i know, and now you

i know, and now you
know, how this will go –
there will be
one week when i will
be indecisive about emptying
the wicker trash bin in the
bedroom, months when i
will avoid vacuuming
one or two corners of the
apartment for fear of
erasing you, a year or
five may go by before i
walk down that street
or head to the cloisters
again, and still, there
will be pockets within
, here and there,
when i will, without so
many words, bump into
the feeling the last time…
was with you
over and
over, until you become
like a fragrance from
lifetimes before

maybe in another six

maybe in another six
years, we will meet
two hours into the
evening, and you
will proceed to go
all library on me,
on the streets of
brooklyn. i will
capture glimpses
of fractured titles
from your lips
at every other
lit corner because
we will walk fast
and hungry. when
we finally
eat, it will be like
the moon, circling,
and when we
look at each other, it
will be the sun,

at sunset, portals

at sunset, portals
open up all across city
streets, curbside,
adjoining this world
with countless
others – so much