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Category: Brooklyn

POEM: Happy Days


Happy Days

these sidewalks are littered
with slowly fading memories
their edges are folding up
colors draining from the images

already Terrace Bagels has changed
it shrank then grew again
Thomas Wolfe once more proved right
but at least the bagels are still good

I’m three blocks from “our” place
waiting for the person you were jealous of
funny how relationships turn out
how I cling to what I can

outside the cafe door a woman
shakes a paper cup in the wind
she’s singing a song I can’t hear
as one person after another passes her by

just in case the point needed to be made
the theme from Happy Days starts playing
I watch my own reruns for a moment more
then turn off the channel and stand to hug my friend

/ / /

22 March 2014
Terrace Bagels
Windsor Terrace
Brooklyn, NY

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POEM: unpacking



a pair of her jeans
in my laundry bag
along with the Tufts sweatpants
we shared back and forth

it was inevitable

a note scribbled on
one sheet of white paper
telling me she loved me
and couldn’t wait to come home

pictures of us kissing

the notebook she gave me
when I left town
the one in which she wrote
her “this isn’t the end” letter

she was wrong, we both were

as I carried all the boxes and bags
from the little storage room
to the moving van in the lot
I remembered the spring day when

we filled up that little room with boxes

then I got on a bus, headed for
who knew where or what
and by the time I got back
it was over

17 November 2013
Oak Street

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haiku: 16 November 2013

it’s unusually warm for November
tonight I’ll be in Brooklyn again
ready to say my goodbyes

16 November 2013
Oak Street

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POEM: walking past the Union Hotel

walking past the Union Hotel

I remember our last days there
sweaty days of packing and moving
making love in a tiny hotel room
eating ramen across the street
tears in the Port Authority bus terminal
but today I wasn’t sad, I didn’t cry
I simply remembered
and kept walking

13 September 2013
Brooklyn NY

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POEM: smile and call you buddy


smile and call you buddy

an ocean of lights and windows
on which sail eight million voices
speaking eight hundred languages
at night the city becomes a galaxy
office windows like clusters of stars
headlights zooming through the black
trailing their comet tails behind them
or maybe it’s a forest of pointed towers
trunks with no branches, no leaves
thrusting toward the sunlight obscured
on the concrete and asphalt below
more than anything it is home
the ground is firm, the grid makes sense
the street vendors sell falafel
smile and call you buddy

2 August 2013
Auburn AL

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