vive la nuit

orange pyres bellow smoke
  in the middle of 42nd street as snow falls
  silently amidst blurry yellow streaks
  and countless pairs of feet

flashes brighten the night on
  47th and 5th as boys and
  girls laugh skating below the
  gargantuan spruce

smells of roasting nuts blind passersby
  as the cold nips their noses red and
  the men in blue direct them
  like shepherds to a flock of lamb

the rumble of the 4 train
  brings urine stained stale
  air to grand central and lex
  as it arrives five minutes late

trees dance like rockettes
  as they try to brush the snow
  from their stiff naked limbs
  in grand central park

staggering men babble words and
  string along a stench of alcohol
  down st.marks and seem
  immune to the cold

families with cameras gawk
  outside the bergdorf and
  down 5th ave to 30 rock
  and eat at hearty hale

boys and girls line up
  in front of magnolia on
  bleecker to pay for
  overpriced red velvet cupcakes

watching planes takeoff
  and land out of terminal 2
  at jfk during sunset
  is the most beautiful thing


one year from now

I just want to run my fingers down your spine
  and kiss your bare shoulders
  as our legs are tangled under the sheets

Let me whisper to you
  and kiss your ear and
  smell you as we hold hands

We'll look at ourselves in our eyes
  and smile
  as a warm, gentle breeze rolls in through the open window

You'll giggle and blush
  and put your hand on my chest
  while I play with your hair

I'll stroke your hair
  as your make circles with your fingers
  on my stomach

The gentle breeze will never stop
  and we'll never stop whispering
  as we look at ourselves in each other.


just want to be young again
  and feel like my life has meaning

miss you alt faced fresh tweens
  your cropped cute bangs and ironic tees

what is authentic anymore
hoping for youth again
writing for youth again
it's been done before

just want to meet an authentic tween
  and feel young again

let's go alt-soul searching
  you, me, and the alt-gens

is it authentic to be ironic
is it authentic to wonder if it's authentic to be ironic
is it alt to be authentic
or is it authentic to be alt

just want to be alt
just want to be alt
just want to feel alt
just want to live alt

citrus colors

            1919 and 1938
I was told that
of aquatic life outlived
communists and that
the dead communists never
ever went to church.
                        we call them the dead generation

I was told that
            they had a fetish-           
                        - a foot fetish
and only wore pink ankle socks
            is that sexy?
they instigated fights with bartenders
and usually lost because they were
old and frail.
                        I think they were virgins

they loved teal raincoats
            but for some reason they chose
            red as their main color

I remember one of the dead gens
telling me red for the color of
love and power and blood and
that we're all red inside -

I told him that was crazy


san marino where I once met you

Hand shaking machine
  I'm tangled up in you
            your claws -
                                    your cause

I've yet to see your face
and I'm doubtful
I ever will

people ask for snippets
            of your hair
(and they don't stop there)

furious proposals are made
   with wrong words
   from frantic minds

and I'm tangled up in you
            hand shaking machine,
            hand-shaking machine

your slender arms
  give away your malnourished self
  but how you keep your hands so soft -
            is a mystery to me.

I don't think I'll ever
    let you go dear
hand shaking machine.

I don't think I'll ever find
another one like you
hand shaking machine,

I noticed your painted fingers:
            red-like blood
            also the color of love

                                    are you in love with me
                                    hand shaking machine
your             rhythmic
            pumping            grip

shows me how great of a
hand shaking machine
you are -

don't let others find out
that you and I
have become a we
after our tango
hand shaking machine

the last thing I need is
        people speculating my
grip on myself

let me kiss your hand
let me kiss you once
            hand shaking machine

this metal tang seeping
through my tongue
is malicious in nature

but I forgive you
I always will
hand shaking machine

listen I won't let go of you
hand shaking machine

            please don't let go of me
hand shaking machine

don't let me down darling
don't let me down

34th and 7th

the amazon sits
            s i p p i n g coffee reading the TIMES

the prostitute waits
            o n l i n e for a macchiato

the dyke bites
            into a b u t t e r e d toasted 12 grain bagel

the model walks
            c a r e f u l to not step on cracks

the mother sips
            s t e e p e d tea

the hag smells
            f r e s h l y baked cinnamon cupcakes

the mistress drains
            her c o f f e e - black, two sugars

the bitch comes
             o u t from the restroom feeling lighter

the widow reads
             o b i t u a r i e s to feel better

and I am here
            w a i t i n g for them to notice me