Run This Town

Earliest night home from the LES. Early enough that the sleazy remains of the Saturday night were still hanging around, cat-calling the high heeled boots that clicked softly homeward on Houston. Not late enough for the Sunday Times to be stacked outside the 24-hour delis along sixth ave so I came home empty handed, the Greenwich streets so quiet but the Village Tavern still brightly lit, reeling from the night and awaiting its buckets of clean mopping water. How difficult it is to fit something like that into 420 characters.

Staring up the avenues, the Empire State so solemn in its night time halo, I saw the Chrysler building shining bright, and in the absence of evergreen trees from home, its pine cone lights guided me all the way to Morton Street. Another night, another advenure. Eyes achingly longing for sleep and turning dizzy, I wonder what I learned tonight.

Perhaps it was nothing. Perhaps, that too, is a lesson. I put in my ear plugs. Tomorrow,indeed, is another day.