Blistered Bliss

I collapse on my bed.
It's the same old city, after all this time, where feet are always tired, countless miles covered on that pavement, day in day out regardless of footwear. On my way home down University Place, I crossed a film set, wardrobes, catering, cables taped to the ground. I scoffed and said, New York, honey, you ain't fooling no one. The entire island is one big set. One day we will take a train under the Hudson and appear on the Jersey shore, blinking and staring into the sunshine of the Real World, and wonder what happened and can we get a refund.

But for now, I happily go along with the charade. Helter Skelter in my ears and a sway in my exhausted walk; dusk darkened over Union Square traffic and I smiled. In this same old city, years later, somehow it's different. I see my roots starting to take, starting to break through the concrete and dare to settle. If I could embrace the entire city, I think I might.

Even if 30 dollars won't pay your rent
on Bleecker street, anymore.