its almost the end of june and new york is overheating. making all of its creatures act oh so strange. the sweat dries on my neck and im left with a salty coat of moisture- unfazed by cold showers. tonight i walked into my kitchen to find a roach the size of an over sized date- staring at me, i made a few sudden movements, expecting it to run away into the corners and underworld of back wall pipes and wires. but it didn't, instead it stared boldly at me, waiting for me to turn the light back off and leave so thatit could tend to its business. so idid, and felt like i'd been bullied.
tonight Michelle, margolit and i went to gino's for dinner. margolit is a ten year old girl i used to rock to sleep at age one month. michelle is my roommate. she comes to visit me at gino's on my mon ot Tuesday shifts because its the only time we really see each other. we worked opposite schedules. we're approaching the three month anniversary of moving in and i've started to notice a positive correlation between how messy our apaprtment becomes and how little food there is in our fridge, with how little we see each other. i've even tried waking up early so that i can sit and drink a coffee with her at our kitchen counter. the downside to this is that when she leaves im left with hours of contemplating on what to do before i head to work or school.
most of the time i end up at the park. prospect park has become my best friend in brooklyn, while most of the people i encounter seem to wallow in their loneliness or relish in their co-dependencies, the park has a way of remaining independently alone, shaped by the people who run its course, but not to a degree that it changes its character in order to accommodate us runners, bikers, strollers, lovers, boys and girls.

in a dream
i wrote in permanent ink
onto overwashed cotton
will it bleed onto your chest
i hope.
a simple message
with collarbone readiness.

just my imagination

that i possess
this body
of words
war
the face of my enemy

third party vocabulary
i stand
above
apart
separate
but equal among enemies.

i find happiness in moments
a conversation
a smile, my smile
a song.
but at the end of the day it all feels-
disjointed.
like i can't quite fit within the lines of my shadow
my silhouette is either too big, too small, or moving in an opposite direction from me
what is the point?
i hate to ask that because i don't know the answer

Erykah Badu - Window Seat

i do laundry
at the kitchen window
fold clothes straight from the dryer
as if i'd been born for this
born knowing how to make corners and piles out of clean clothes
or maybe it's all those years i watched my parents do the same,
mommy ironing our skirts and dresses with a VHS tape playing in the background

it will always be summer,
the way i remember things,
summer breeze and summers' sun
setting only after we lay in bed,
backs beaded with sweat, stuck to tie-dyed sheets.

thinking about memories and laundry and summer nights
about the smell of pasta and the sticky yellow linoleum tiles
windows open
and we come,
running, dirty hands, inside for dinner.

i want to sit closely
on plastic orange seats

invite you into my row
and place my headphones around your ears

its the mommas and the poppas
'dedicated to the one i love'

my eyes taping it all
the circle moon, penciled onto white plastic subway walls

initials and shapes and tags
one more thing to dream about, unknowingly

the stranger in my dream walks by me in the park
i only notice him the second time around

down syndrome, he walks with his mother
and i wonder if god is playing tricks

to send someone to me in a dream
and let him walk right by

after 'so many months'
i get a letter from you
what i thought was your ghost
turned out to be your shadow

after so many months
of you,
considering me
a stranger.

after so many months,
uncle buddy died,
after so many years
of him,
considering her
too far.

what they thought was his time to fight
was his time to wait
what he thought was her voice
were voices in his head
and he got skinny without her by his side.

trying to laugh like he did
to let his children think he could still live
without her

meeker, thinner, softer
than i ever was
you left my side
and i came back to greet this life

i thought it was time to fight
thought it was time to reach you in the dark
and i fought fought fought
with fierce eyes
tiger-ed lips pursed to the jungle we braved
left
with cuts and bruises

but with tough and callous feet
i walked away, continued
walked in front
because without afternoon's shadow
i had no way of knowing where you were
when you left my side

when she left his side
his feet became soft
preferring to walk on sand
we let you go, dear Uncle.

pink. I float on clouds two inches above the keys in my hand
im too high to light ignitions,
to spark distance on the long road ahead
im out of earshot of this fast mouth
i shiver but i'm too far to feel cold, or hot
i cry
too numb to make it last
thinking
of you in ten years
i plead
thinking
of my body
i shake
wet in your company
breathing deep and singing loud

waiting

tonight is all i know
street lamp serenity, mystery in your rhyme
i wait.

knowing you may
or may not be on your way
i forget.

about daylight,
and all things that come with tomorrow,
because night lasts

because night is
traveling.

In The Dugout

In the dugout
You dug me out
Of suburban boredom,
I do the same
laugh with the rhythm of pretned-permaenence
i am
temporary
so when You mispronounce my name, i don't really mind
and your name?
what is it again- one of those easy names, like john or mike.
Too easy that i second guess myself when I call to you, outloud
So we prefer to go nameless
feeling anonymitiy’s breeze on our naked backs
We watch the sun set over the yellow house
We Smoke cigarettes,
And lean against wire net.
breathing baseball’s tan dust in early spring
(or is it late winter?)
we stay until sun set,
until our families need us
to return keys,
to swoop up little ones.
us
secret players at dusk,
chewing and spitting eachother out like tobacco

as long as you leave less lonely than when you arrived.
"as long as it's fun,"
can't rememebr who told me that or how old i was
an age when everything was suppoed to be "fun" i guess
but even at that age i knew there was more than that
i knew about pain and wasn;t scared to wash it away with days of tears
i knew about secrets and wasn't ashamed to bear my few
as ong as i leave having more fun than when i came,
i know this is all it is
tonight i left you less lonely and more sad
sad that i had to leave my home to come to yours
sad when you stroked my hari the way that is so damn sweet

This song sounds like you.
How you spoke softly,
His voice is scratchy, but strong.
He plucks his guitar strings
Like you Plucked every string of young heart

I felt like an indigenous mexican instrument,
Like hollow wood
Like ancient bark
Handled with care
By you.

"Tu Dueno"
You were,
My Gypsy King.

This song is mine.
It ends only to be started again
I can't recognize beginnings since you left
When endings are never certain
And you are always with me.

Watching you sleep was the loneliest part of our nights.

Singing, he continues, Vibrato
Echoing in my ear
Layering your memory atop reality
Of invisibility.

Why did you take my voice from your head?
Without it I may never appear to you in a song.

Vibrato-ed love,
You made it last.
You didn't just love me-
You looovvvveeeed me,
Without punctuation
You loved me on a blank white page
Eternal, pure, dove and olive branch.
Eternally fading white,
Neither brighter nor duller than the day beofre
Softly singing
You sang to me
A song sung.

Where are you off to
Quiet nights I can not take
So take me with you
Wherever you're going, I'll go
I'll drive when you get tired
And cook when we're hungry
I already save half of what I eat for you,
Imagine.
Imagine how much of the same it will be
Not knowing you and knowing you
I believe in you
therefore
i already know you
already love you.

hands reaching in time's confusion
you're either for me
or against
up against this wall
i stood
still
through night's quiet
and dark cold breeze against the back of my neck that your scarf's cotton
couldn't caress
couldn't care less
about
a man and his cold night
i wish i did.

im not that girl with that guy. im the dj, im here for the music. neither male or female with headphones hanging from one ear. i can't wait.

i ran into the diner and she wondered
shouldn't I be used to the ten degree windchill in the middle of night air?
i said no, you don't get used to cold like this.
maybe it even gets a little worse each winter.
becuase this year, it's back, again.
so we order.
warm food, fried and elastic cheese make us feel like worry-less kids.
entertaining our friends across the booth with stories of our past lives in a city as far as memory.
pay. leave and run to our car
our friends watch us giggle and we dive like divas into the red toyota.
drove home but i was so tired i dont remember that part.
sleep, sleep.
me on her right side and her on my left.

hip hop
rocked me home

mich in the city is moving,
to a new city.
welcome me, new york.
you did today when you tricked us into your industrial cool
into your manhattan views with exposed brick-
bed bugs.

let's raise a prince together
you will be my king and i wlil try so hard to a queen for you.
until the day i show up at your doorstep, or send you the key to mine-
i'll be here.
making memories of our prince unborn, unscathed by all things that make us tired.
i'm here baking bread, kissing his forehead
there you are, one of those 'cool' dads we always point out
swinging their sons across their shoulders or their daughters on their backs