Brooklyn — Boerum Hill
Published in
1 min readDec 18, 2016
I woke up to find
A “No Standing” sign by my door
A pretty, precipitous fall
Watching me from below
And a black bird sweeping
The streets with his better wing
singing: “Life’s hard, kid.”
The fountain across the street
winked at me, said it prefers
a falling babe to flying trash
and up above
yellow lights
led me down New York’s faces
each begging pardons
taking words
burning and turning East
then West
and I swear, right then and there,
everything that happened
was happening to me.
