making new
traditions
making old traditions
happier
making things work
in this snow-less escape
that is our regular every day life
in new york city
~~~
down the coffee
slip off to the holiday market
grab cider/
wine/
juice/
anything
to make a mulled wine
happen
and also some stickers
and also some goofy goofs
and also
some
potential
presents
for a new
present moment
~~~
silly,
i
already
know
tho no one
likes
the un-airconditioned train
i still smile to myself
every time a new group enters
and makes the same
“awww, nahhh/no!”
when they realize
the car they’ve chosen
will only increase
the nyc heat
it’s the little moments that show —
we are more alike than we are different
abandoned the Queer Liberation March
for our family
(but i think that’s what queer liberation means —
the choice to care for those around you,
for your family to be accepted and seen/
the queer love and joy (and pain and sorrow)
seen/ as equivalently normal
to straights
and cis’s)
so
while we no longer have the perfect track record
of only going to the Queer Liberation March
since moving to new york,
at least we retain our record
of never attending nyc corporate pride
(and that almost feels more apt
in this capitalistic grind consumerist colonizer society
of ours)
it took until
the night before
the last day of February
for snow to fully blanket
New York City
and that last day,
did it glisten and glow?
did it soften the world?
were there snowmen and angels about?
no.
24 hours post-semi-blizzard,
the air around it
started to melt the white stuff,
and turn it into ice over that night,
and dripping, dropping slush the next day.
what a grey and gloomy,
cold and foreboding,
proof of climate change winter
we’ve had this year
a grey morning
but warmer than it’s been
and still no snow
thank you(?) global warming
poetry-ing
from the midst of a theatre
audience left
stage right
home
for so many years
conceptually
this place
specifically
home
for the next week
[or so]
sappy poems
for new york city bakeries
of a spouse still sitting at home without me
because they’re so good at caring for our
little broken puppy
and i’m off playing as an artiste
the way i’d hoped to be
i used to be so impressed
by those folks who sat
in a courtyard and offered
immediate poetry for any who asked
but i feel
after nearly two full years
of daily writing
and spouting
whatever comes to the top of my poet-brain
i could probably buy a typewriter
and park myself in any park in the city
and ask for only tips in a jar
and write and write and write for others
and maybe that
would be an artist’s life
for me
i didn’t think i would,
but i
felt *something*
while observing
curtain call
at that broadway theater
yesterday afternoon.
a little something
was the show itself—
pushing boundaries,
addressing hard topics,
calling in and calling out.
but another something
was simply seeing
human beings
on a stage
in front of hundreds/thousands—
a crowd
here to see
all Black faces and voices
and it being my
(technically accidental)
return
to seeing
live theatre…
auspicious?
inspiring?
fortuitous?
serendipity…
perhaps broadway is changing for the better?
—but—
while those feelings are definitely in there,
i think there was something else,
something additional…
a giant sense of
‘i didn’t let myself miss this
until right now’
i’ve missed the theater itself
physically
psychologically,
conceptually,
and i’ve missed performing on stage,
of course,
that’s in my blood—
but something in me missed
the actual
going to see
a good show
i didn’t know that about myself
until just now
and i’ll keep it
close
to my heart
the temperature
is supposed to get
all the way up to
97 degrees
i’ll be spending some time
in manhattan
so it’ll probably feel like
107 at least.
and in the subway system,
underground,
waiting for the train,
oof, maybe 137
but once i’m on the train,
the a/c blasting
will make me shiver
like it’s the middle of winter
(unless, of course, the air conditioning is broken
in whichever particular train car
i happen to enter)
(and i have to decide
on clothing
to fit all those
scenarios…)
(summer in the city is no joke)
kipventures 