4/29/2016

I smile dumbly
and blink my grainy
eyelids.

The sky looks like a
Monet detail
of mallow,

grey and
baby boy blue
tepid and

As we make
our way down the
avenue with

lighters
I give her a
pallid glance

and it is not
our beautiful day
and they are far away

the peonies,
laid,
grow out of the ground

and the people out of
the town
I go home

and lie in bed and
I remember talking
to myself once I

recalled
"I love  New York
Because there's so many bridges to jump off"