New York
you greeted me at your ugliest
twenty blocks deep
you stripped my clothes
soaked me glass-skinned so my impression
was see-through
we kept things classy
we didn’t bruce lee feet sweep each other
or pluck thorns from roses
stand up, New York
you’re more than this
authors swing their hardest punches at you
and always miss
like this poem
i wrote it and came back
to prove its contents
we made love
amid the spaces of Bay blinds
i sailed you paper-planes between
the Windy City’s asthma attacks
waiting for you to write me back
i know i acted like a baseball
who never met a bat
that’s why i collapsed
when you hit me
too late for me to return
i can’t reach you with my lips
so take these words
lay your head on their chest
plug your ferris wheel
into your musical box
and listen