how is packing
the most stressful?
irrelevant of context
whether coming or going
moving or staying
(there’s a reason all my stress dreams
become packing nightmares)
Month: June 2019
June 28
our walking tour of the historic sites of stonewall and gay Greenwich Village
was postponed, likely to be canceled, without notice
for a Lady Gaga concert scheduled to begin
in seven and a half hours
and if that isn’t the perfect metaphor
for the commercialization and lost history
of Pride
i don’t know what is.
June 27
i type on an app
that makes my iPad
emulate a typewriter
i love feeling
like hipster trash
June 26
a line of SUV’s
all dark blue or black
parked on the left side of the street
one a few feet in front of the others
hazards on
trunk open
an Orthodox Jew
unloading large speakers
one by one
onto the hot pavement
a Brooklyn scene
June 25
in the morning
a downpour
hair soaked
from under a hood
in seconds as we
rush across the same street twice
trying to predict our Lyft driver’s
street familiarity
in the afternoon
too hot
for anyone’s comfort
(and we thought the rain would cool the city off)
in the evening
a hella-queer rooftop concert
as the sun sets
lavender
and
baby blue
over the NYC skyline
June 24
i just start getting used to New York
when we end up in Manhattan
and again i don’t understand
so many people
such chaos
such stress
if i had to name it
i think it would be tourists
what are you getting
out of New York City
if you only stay
where there are others like you?
where all your photos are the same
and your experiences shaped by
cookie cutters?
(i could easily ask this of myself
in Machu Picchu
in Qorikancha
safely passing the Andes
by train)
i wouldn’t be so bold as to say
i’ve seen the ‘real New York’
(with such a diverse population
there’s got to be just as many
real New Yorks as there are people)
but i’m sure as hell
going to try to stay far away
from the ‘fake New York’
June 23
a good team
for marriage
has similar interests
a good team
for trivia
has dissimilar interests
we are only one of these good teams
June 22
a child
no older than four
in a t-shirt and orange striped briefs
comes up to me
and
stares directly into my eyes
and
sings along with “dancing queen’
at me
as we wait for the mermaid parade
to start
and i whisper to my spouse,
‘that is my son’
June 21
nothing makes you feel
quite as good about a decision
as waiting forever for a Lyft
in a crowd
and having a woman stop rushing past
for a moment
to make eye contact with
only you
and say
‘welcome home, right’
kipventures 