Walking down
Second Avenue
inside trips of
electric pulse
my eyes peeled back
to take it all in
my senses full
of whizzing
action as I
hold your hand
in innocent wonder
I still take a stand
asking questions,
sometimes shyly
observing how I might
want to be
or not
colorful people
some with kids
some with spiky hair
clothes of all kinds
progressive air
we turn the corners
(Dad, are those
two women kissing?)
my eyes wide
yes I must
must keep them open
to access what I'm missing
punk queens and their friends
people of every culture
faces of every shade
some friendly some bitter
from dark onyx
to cool jade
then sophisticated
streets with window
jewel-toned
dazzle
to contrast the
nitty-grit
of Lower East Side
street art
rough-edged
frazzle
West Side laid back
in its pre-hipster scene
now I am a soul-searching
adolescent, my hair dyed
a minty hue of green
vintage skirts and short-spiked hair
feeling anonymous and happy
loving the looks as I
kept my gaze steady
inside feeling my
budding womanhood
at work, making
me heady
and how I remember
as a kid
going to visit my grandpa
at work
way up high
amazed by those Twin buildings
slicing clear blue sky
in an elevator that moved
from winds side to side
seeing the whole world
from the top
what a trip, what pride
Flashback to later
in a far-away land
all pregnant
my mouth dropping open
I watched them be ravaged
cityscape landmarks
sawed off in the middle
like a King Kong movie,
our eyes disbelieving
fire and brimstone
so much grieving
Trying to call dad and panicking
*** is he supposed
go to the WTC branch today??)
Not believing how our
belief in people
turned us into prey
My city I no longer live in your ribs
But you beat inside me
today everyday
all months not only September
yet today tears do flow
as I vow
to remember
Sep 11, 2016
Sep 11, 2016 at 1:41 PM UTC
Walking down
Second Avenue
inside trips of
electric pulse
my eyes peeled back
to take it all in
my senses full
of whizzing
action as I
hold your hand
in innocent wonder
I still take a stand
asking questions,
sometimes shyly
observing how I might
want to be
or not
colorful people
some with kids
some with spiky hair
clothes of all kinds
progressive air
we turn the corners
(Dad, are those
two women kissing?)
my eyes wide
yes I must
must keep them open
to access what I'm missing
punk queens and their friends
people of every culture
faces of every shade
some friendly some bitter
from dark onyx
to cool jade
then sophisticated
streets with window
jewel-toned
dazzle
to contrast the
nitty-grit
of Lower East Side
street art
rough-edged
frazzle
West Side laid back
in its pre-hipster scene
now I am a soul-searching
adolescent, my hair dyed
a minty hue of green
vintage skirts and short-spiked hair
feeling anonymous and happy
loving the looks as I
kept my gaze steady
inside feeling my
budding womanhood
at work, making
me heady
and how I remember
as a kid
going to visit my grandpa
at work
way up high
amazed by those Twin buildings
slicing clear blue sky
in an elevator that moved
from winds side to side
seeing the whole world
from the top
what a trip, what pride
Flashback to later
in a far-away land
all pregnant
my mouth dropping open
I watched them be ravaged
cityscape landmarks
sawed off in the middle
like a King Kong movie,
our eyes disbelieving
fire and brimstone
so much grieving
Trying to call dad and panicking
*** is he supposed
go to the WTC branch today??)
Not believing how our
belief in people
turned us into prey
My city I no longer live in your ribs
But you beat inside me
today everyday
all months not only September
yet today tears do flow
as I vow
to remember
I know this is long but it was hard to leave out certain things. New York City is a map of my life. I cannot only think of the events of September 11th without recalling the entire trip, and this is only the tip of the iceberg.
