Category Archives: New York
Crowds of people stand with their backs to the colors, their eyes on their phones or on the train tracks. “Turn around!” I want to say, “You’re missing it.”
For a moment, I wondered if I should be embarrassed. Then I remembered that loving Tom Petty is not embarrassing.
And if Regina Spektor happens to be giving a concert in Central Park on that particular Wednesday, who’s to say I have to move my painstakingly planned picnic?
The next day is exactly like the first.
We don’t check the news.
Phones die on the picnic table while we swim.
According to Google, there are twelve independent bookstores in upper Manhattan, the section of the city I call home.
After I signed a waiver that confirmed I wouldn’t sue Equinox if I died on the treadmill or passed out because I saw Blake Lively, we entered the immaculate studio.
I wonder, sometimes, if you feel forgotten. After all, I did not become an English professor, as I once thought I might.
First, this is a poem to say thank you
for taking me back to Budapest.
I would even go so far as to say that tidying, a good spring cleaning that freshens any staleness that has settled in over a long winter, can be a spiritual practice.