June 15, 2021

figuring out our foundations;
both of us grew up
just outside of a suburban border
(not quite country)
and staying in green
with bugs
and wildlife
and stars and sky
feels so good

but also,
after a year and a half in The City
(The City that Never Sleeps, The Big Apple, The Greatest City in the World)
we can’t imagine living anywhere else.
we would miss the convenience of walking to get everywhere,
an actually useful public transportation system,
the resilience of all the people,
observing those completely unlike you
(and seeing dozens of people exactly like you,
no matter how unique you think you are)

(how quickly New York steals your heart)

May 31, 2021

did some things
yesterday
this morning
just now
will continue to do things
as the day goes by
(a nice thing about holidays
when you’re still placing caution
from The Virus™
before familial or friendship
hangouts)
and the accomplishments
of cleaning
and organizing
can breathe new life
into this small box
and make it
more like
home.

May 28, 2021

big changes ahead
but way far ahead
too far ahead
(will they ever come true ahead)

but i’m usually itching to change
or so fearful it hurts
but right now everything feels…



…shifty
(is that the right word?
i was originally going to go with ‘stale’
but that’s usually what it feels like
when i desire the change,
but ‘content’ isn’t right either,
i’d be happy to change
or happy to stay,
i think it feels like there are things in flux
that i am not yet aware of
that maybe i can follow a path
that is being set for me as of right now
(though
as i write this
i know
i’m stubborn
and contrary
and i’ve never followed a pre-determined path in my life
[except when it comes to recipes]
i don’t know how to align
the alignment
i feel like i need to do more research
into myself)
maybe,
the path that’s being set
is my own?)

(if only…)

November 17, 2020

i had a dream last night
that i was at a theme park
all roller coasters and arcade games
and fried food and good friends
and yet, in the air, there was the stench of stress
of disease
and i realized
that i shouldn’t be there.

i was there with a friend
i haven’t seen in ages
and we were enjoying our time
(it seemed the park had just opened up
and we were some of the first to ride its rides
again
after shut-down)
but the shut-down wasn’t done yet,
they just decided to open
they said they had precautions in place
but all i saw was slightly less people
and no way of stemming that flow
once the gates were truly open
(indeed, it wasn’t really much less than on a rainy summer day.)

and though my friend and i enjoyed our time
and i said hi to her family
and we replayed our crazy youth
(of rehearsals and post-show chi-chi’s gatherings
getting ‘drunk’ on sprite
and ‘high’ on pixy stix)
there was still a reminder
in the back of my head
“we are in a pandemic
we should still be in lock-down
what are you doing?
what are you doing?

what are you doing???”

but i couldn’t seem to leave.

maybe it was the social obligation;
i had arrived here with my friend
(i think we’d driven together)
i couldn’t just abandon her.
or maybe it was a selfish decision;
i hadn’t had this much fun
in over 8 months,
i hadn’t even been to a theme park
in years
i’d get cravings
(though i’ve never craved the crowds)
and there was still one more ride i wanted to ride
one more game i wanted to try
one more food i wanted to partake in
(plust the park wasn’t closing for hours and hours)

so my insides struggled
with the guilt of knowing i shouldn’t be there
and the knowledge that i could just leave
but the compulsivity to stay.

would i have not entered the park, had my dream started earlier?
given me an out of not feeling like i’d ‘already gotten this far’?
or would i have convinced myself there was some reason
saying ‘we’d already driven this far’
or ‘well they invited me’
or ‘i mean, the pandemic is lessening, right?’

but it’s not, it’s getting worse and worse, but half of the united states decided they were
‘bored of the pandemic’
‘bored of the lockdown’
‘bored of taking precautions for themselves and[especially] for others’

and i want to be bored of it all
but frankly, i enjoy the solitude

however

i miss my friends and my family
i miss having a place to go to every day
i miss exploring
i miss feeling like i could spend hours in one public place
i miss classes and hugs and working towards feeling strong
i miss feeling like i could one day make this city my own.

but mostly, i miss the souls i never met.
what if that first statistic was meant to be my new best friend
what if that person who had an ongoing condition
won’t be able to dance again
because their breath was taken away
by a disease traveling the globe
and they won’t go back to a class ever again
because they feel too embarrassed by their loss.
what if there was a chance encounter
a silly thing
mixed-up drinks at a coffee shop
or a jovial ‘yes and’ at a subway platform
just the little things that you hold in your heart
and maybe tell your spouse at the end of the day
that make the city feel like the most welcoming place
in the world
and now we can’t
because people think that roller coasters
and their own enjoyment
are more important
than other people’s
lives.

please stay inside.

November 7, 2020

7pm
every weekday
New Yorkers
cheer
through open windows
banging pots and pans
screaming our thanks
outwards
upwards
towards the front line workers
[trying to] control this pandemic
helping people
keeping folks
alive

[it felt like our only way to actively
give thanks
and feel relatively
in control]

November 7, 2020
11:27am
cheers echo in our neighborhood
as my spouse refreshes their page
“yep, the New York Times just called it”

and here we are again
regaining some control
screaming our relief
through open windows
outwards
upwards
towards whatever higher deities
[or Pennsylvanians]
we believe in
giving thanks for knowing
we should have a leader
who can be held accountable.

[now let’s hold him
accountable.]

October 7, 2020 [part 2]

i seem to be falling in love with this city
its bright lights of harsh daylight
and soft hues of glaring night

i am still an introvert in the world of countless people
but most of them seem to view ‘people’ the same way i do
so we mutually ignore each other

and yet

if protests and marches and keeping up with the roots of the grass
has taught me anything
it’s that we also have an eye out for each other;
we keep us safe
in these streets, our streets
and my love for this city
never would have reached these levels
had it not been for the community i’ve watched
grow.

October 7, 2020

the moment passed
without much fanfare
of how long we’ve been living in NYC with
[rather than without]
a pandemic at our heels.

i thought it would feel different
but time hasn’t felt ‘natural’
since March.

the days pass in decades
and months are gone by the time you
open your eyes from a
blink.

it would have been
somewhere
around late July
and we’ve known more New York
within COVID
than out

and even if we track
for those weeks we stayed
preparing for the eventual move
and even if we track
for those weeks i visited
before knowing i’d ever
live here

let’s get all those weeks
out of the way
and add a buffer
and still

late September

and i’ve known more about COVID New York
Pandemic New York
Quarantine New York
than pre-any-of-this.

and yet
the whole effect of living in a place
in a quarantine
is that you don’t see the city
so maybe take out the days we were stuck inside?

but that’s more math than i’m willing to do right now
instead i’ll ask
has there really ever been a ‘real’ way
to live in
New York City?

September 20, 2020

there is a silence
in the country
in the backwoods
that unnerves me

any creak of the house
or wind in the trees
sends my anxiety rising to levels
far above those rustling leaves
simply because it is outside the norm

in the city, there is a collage of noises every night
and you never know where anything is coming from
and you just learn that it is part of the auditory landscape
and it lulls you to sleep, like a very unique kind of white noise machine
the lullaby of the city
of sirens
harmonizing with three different genres of music
blasting out of un-mufflered cars
and the steady hum of the downstairs bathroom fan
somehow melding into the far away helicopter
distorted by distance
and they all cacophonize
into one quiet whisper
of ‘you’re safe
you’re safe
you’re safe
now go to sleep’
and you sleep better than
you have in weeks

(it feels so good to be home)

July 7, half-heartedly edited July 21, 2020

On my rooftop I see:

1. a green tree across the street
2. a match to the folding chair under me
3. a pigeon, hopping on the next roof, its eyes as red as the
4. red brick apartment across the road
5. a treeline, it might be the park?
6. a metal fence, so I don’t fall off
7. this private rooftop terrace, that my privilege helped get me
8. satellite dishes from DirectTV
9. a/c units sticking out of 6th floor windows
10. clouds and a flash of what may be a rainbow
11. my rainbow hair blowing in the polluted wind
12. no sign nor sight of a way to make this poem end
13. sounds of busses, bodega music, wings flapping, construction; scents of the laundromat around the corner,
and wind, so much wind, against my face, feeling a chill on this hot New York afternoon, perhaps//

a loud boom, a bang, was it from the west or the east?
i strain my neck over the gate, and the only answer i see
is the smell of the garbage truck, stopped on my street.


i have so many unfinished poems written
but not the stomach to stomach the rereading.