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.
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
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
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’
kipventures 