nyc bench
placemat of bricks and breath
tastes like stale beer against your mask
waiting late stand on the train wet from the rain
to charge your phone on that silver stolen charger
from cvs old man says please— shake your head
god bless gone again
and you eat dinner alone
σπίτι σου στο δρόμος
writing your monologue to clean teeth
as the subway rattles underneath
your rain-wet plate
bricks and rooftops made of slate
black and red and white-washed
neighborhoods where you ate
your teeth twice broken jaw
climate change has gone and thawed
the white-wash snow, so
you're in the oven now
blackbird pie but pigeon food
about to be fed up to
new york big city kings on puppet strings
— August 2021, New York, NY
