Her nose knew this smell. The people. The men. Men. Men took the trees. Men made them hot and orange. Men would touch the trees to make them glow in the night. The trees began a new life that filled
...
[+]
Why can't I write the feeling
of this city?
The floors are warped and the paint is chocolate chipped mint. The plugs and light
switches
Are sideways. So are the streets. The
Brooklyn Bridge is crowded in the hour
before sunset
But not the Williamsburg although
It's covered in much better graffiti
and splattered
rain.
I used to think everyone loved
in the same way. Used to sit on evenings
painting fumes.
I used to know bus schedules and the
trains.
Used to know the style, Bedford Ave.
You.
of this city?
The floors are warped and the paint is chocolate chipped mint. The plugs and light
switches
Are sideways. So are the streets. The
Brooklyn Bridge is crowded in the hour
before sunset
But not the Williamsburg although
It's covered in much better graffiti
and splattered
rain.
I used to think everyone loved
in the same way. Used to sit on evenings
painting fumes.
I used to know bus schedules and the
trains.
Used to know the style, Bedford Ave.
You.