look at it snow
look at it snow
the frozen, wet wet droplets, careening down to the ground
with all their friends, with all their friends,
coating our new york city
with a wintry wonderland mix of
wet and beauty
white and sludgy
and making me feel like
i’m almost ready
for the rest of this season
[but only if it’s going to be
this
gorgeous]
it is december
it is december
i’m allowing myself these
twenty-five to thirty-one days
of holiday feeling
[perhaps it’s a mistake,
but,
in nyc i believe
i am not beholden to old memories —
this city makes new ones all the time
and i can learn from all of that
and all of those
and have an nyc holiday season
instead of suffering from memories
of midwest christmases
long since passed]
babies
and puppers
and friends we haven’t seen
in forever
and ships passing in the night
for some we
wish to see
but anyone missed
is always welcome
in nyc
i think
i see
[or am starting to
anyway]
why
the cyclone
has so much
lore
and art
and presence
and prestige
about it
i may need to ride it
a couple more times
to truly understand
[though that may be
my thrill-seeker side
craving the hairpin turns
and g-forces
pressing on my thumping heart
truly feeling
alive]
[we’ll see
we’ll see]
while we didn’t fall in love with Lisbon
like we thought we might
we definitely fell in love with Europe
and the fact that people here
seem to be a little bit more functional/
the democracies around here
definitely are more functional
than the shitshow we left
and are now approaching back
and Paris
the surprise contender
from least likely
to most
in our future endeavors
[is it just that we fall in love with
anything
that reminds us of New York?]
[is that the moral of this whole experience?]
i still can’t get over
how much this city,
though so different
from my concrete jungle,
can remind me so much
of home
from the pigeons
and mourning doves
and stray cats
everywhere
to the instances of
so many different
languages being spoken
and written down
to its walkability
and metro system,
even the tourist traps
are cute reminders
of my home’s downtown
[feeling at home
even in a foreign city —
the story of new yorkers abroad]
getting choked up
at rallies where we all chant
“we are New Yorkers”
to signify we won’t be beaten down
or give in
to fascism
literally tearing up
while reading the world’s responses
to our mayoral primary
“that’s my mayor”
in Cleveland
in Virginia
in New Zealand
in Europe
those damn tote bags were right —
don’t you dare call me an american
i’ve never had any
pride in my country
but don’t you dare forget
that i’m a New Yorker
and my chosen city
stands up for all our
beliefs
and when we get together on something
don’t you dare forget
what we can all accomplish
as New Yorkers
together
we chanted
and marched
and demanded
and yelled
and one white man was released
but what about all the others?
FREE THEM ALL
walking the puppy
up and down the sidewalk
that same sidewalk we do every morning
and she always smells different things
keeps up with different dogs in the neighborhood
[“reads the newspaper” if you will]
and i stand by, astounded
that something as beautiful smelling as honeysuckle
can be growing
and scenting
this new york city
neighborhood
[even if they are invasive…]
what will Pride be like this year
with our government in shambles
and all the blame for
everything
placed on the shoulders of those
who pioneered the struggle and marches
that today’s parades are based on
will rainbow capitalism
make an appearance
or are we simply
closer to Sylvia and Marsha P’s era
than we ever have been
before?
[and will that help
in community-building
and getting back
to what Pride
actually means?]
kipventures 