New York, New York

Train entering New York

There a kiss of memory
Glide through the subway
rattle, shake hurtle. Hustle.
I’ve never not been here
New York, New York,
Loved you like you were my own
But the die rolled up one too much
Once in Central Park I was certain
I belonged.

The Bronx

Same on the trails of Van Cortland Park Running hot 102 degrees

makes no difference
Jump on the pull up bar
Run. Dips on your Olympic rings
This comes once a day, this freedom.
Relief from trying to write something new.
Walk down Gun Hill, the reggaeton.
The love and life in the air. Beauty too.
Sucks the air out of lungs.
We must stick together he says.
I know not of what “we” he speaks.
Of how his dividing us.
But he’s being honest. Kind too.
So I assume he’s here to unite not divide.