drunk on afternoon sunshine

had monday off... spent it in the city...
shopping and visiting and
laying around in washington square park, people-watching in the sunshine...
kinda hoped it'd fix my jones
but it's official:
i miss my home so bad my teeth hurt.
i'm ready to make promises to god:
if you let me move home, i swear
i will never bitch about the summer heat
or the way you have to wear boots every single day in winter
fashion be damned because of that bone-crunching cold
(that isn't colder than in the suburbs, it's only that in new york city,
unless you are extremely rich, you are out in the elements a lot. )
and i promise that i will love
that you have to walk every day,
three, four, five miles
to and from the subway
underground in the tunnels
to and from work
and you do it fast
and because of this your ass isn't as fat as your diet would suggest it should be.

i miss my tall brooklyn windows

and how you could see the empire state building from the rooftop at 156 Quincy St

and the dinosaur sculptures in our front yard.

and i miss the crackle in the the air that happens there

and nowhere else.

i miss it so much.
the street-songs, the good shoes,
the waitstaff that isn't gonna be perky so drink your coffee or fuck off, lady, i don't care which.

by hook or by crook, folks. by hook or by crook.