– open mic night,
– a suggestion of desire,
– an approach with almost familiarity, “he has great taste,”
– flight from manhattan on the back of a motorcycle from the 1980s, past the Hudson river
– “i feel the wind in my hair”
– fire escapes and champagne,
– sleeping on planes, (more like hallucinating),
– dark, red-lit bars,
– sweet georgia brown asking for a little respect,
– and the bowery electric,
– (“There is really one city for everyone just as there is one major love,” she wrote). In her diaries, she expressed her joy of landing in bohemian Greenwich Village, “where all night long typewriters click, people sing in the streets, hurdy gurdies go all day and the laundry boy reads Turgenev. – on The Diaries of Dawn Powell, the New Yorker
– “i hope we fall asleep here.”
– we were lit. broken. healed.
– the shape of it all. a peninsula, or perhaps a fjord,
– eyes in the dark. hands in the dark.
– falling asleep on air mattresses and waking up on the ground,
– identity, i guess,
– twenty-eight and counting,
– “broadway is dark tonight” and i am living it, i am here.