glorious sunday

[in response to an email from j. always reeling it out of me]

it is, however, not such a glorious sunday in nyc, which is where i am roaming these next few days and have been since wednesday; unless, ofcoarse, you consider 25 degrees- feels- like- 15 degrees weather to be glorious. but i bet, even you who appreciates a brisk day, would admit that the conditions of the new yorker is a mind blowing one.

sometimes, in a moment, when the gust is still, standing upon concrete under our shared sun, i am in the quaint city of long beach, taking in all the new, looking out my bedroom window, daydreaming away of these city streets of my past. then the wind kicks up again and makes my cheeks numb, and the inhale of my cigarette suddenly feels uncomfortable in my lungs because my intention was not to take a drag of winter, but a reasonable unconcious 75 degrees and sunny dose of nostalgia. oh well. so on these subways i glide again, as if i've always been. new york pushes reality right back in my face like a true friend, always stabbing me in the chest, never in the back.

i'm in the snow and i'm almost ready to come home.
just some life maintenance. you know about that.
loud smiles soon, my grace, and a tail feather, too.

a basco lady