new york,
i’m on my knees.
pls. share one of your women
with
me.
i know you have
so many––
i’ve seen them roller blading down
the esplanade & jogging up
lexington avenue;
trying lipstick at macy’s; cueing
up in front of the ladies’ room at
the angelica; buying häagen-dasz
brownies a la mode. so many.
i’m sure you can spare
just one.
i’ve been growing my heart in
your fertile downtown soil;
taking hugging exercises at
the open center; and feeding my
soul on the sacred silences in the
holy corridors of
the met.
how more can i show my
appreciation
(for
this energy of yours that fills the
center of my bones
the creative souls & minds & hands
& feet & voices that wake my days &
intensify my nights
& the subways which hardly ever
stall; & the taxis that are almost always there
when you need them)
than by
kissing my woman at the castle keep in central park, &
holding hands down fifth avenue or making
love a million miles above broadway
just like the stars.