Not good not good not good

Today feels like a Monday and I feel I may blow a fuse. Almost everyone can suck it. This includes some babies and small dogs.

Today I thought I saw you waiting at the bus stop. Glasses and earmuffs and all. I drove by on my way home, after helping a friend try on engagement rings for the first time and dinner where the most satisfying part was the chocolate chip cookie at the end.

Maybe I just have you on my brain. Or maybe I just have relationships on my brain. We never did get to experience normalcy, did we? No, instead it was intensified blips on the graph of life. You will always be my summer fling. I've seen normal through the eyes of strangers and I wonder if I'll see it through my own. I don't do normal very well. In fact, I starting tearing after a conversation with a potential set-up. This is all very strange to me.

Dear New York,

Sometimes, in those rare moments when I force myself to look up from this device, I see you in your entire glory. I see you for the grit and glam, the bright lights that can outshine those of the Vegas strip. I see you for the stuff that poems and movies and photos and songs and history are made of, and I see you for the epithets that were made just for you.

I admit, sometimes I don't see your beauty. Sometimes I don't always stop in awe of the Empire State building in the distance, nor marvel in Central Park summers. But I live for the Bowery poetry nights - the nights that make you feel alive, that awaken the soul after it's been sleeping for far too long. And I long to find the non-cliches you have to offer. Something that makes me feel like I selfishly have a little piece of home.