Echo Park

Wake early, pummel through the day, everything is a list of to-dos, everything is hamster wheels you spent a life time avoiding. Late at night, warm Friday night in New York City, I run along the river and remember poetry in my veins, remember purpose in the dark silence. There's a spontaneous dance party in the amphitheater. New Yorkers will not relent. He says he's coming through the city and you wonder what it means to steal moments. 

This decade doesn't give you any moments,
you see,

so you do what you can 

with the sticky fingers

you made yourself in the fire.