Again I am on your stoop waiting til dawn to get a glimpse of you.
The Book of Hours in hand.
Rilke’s words are about explode into this smoky century.
Everyone is looking LULu on the outside.
The world’s a crossfit class
Harley passes me wearing nothing but Lucy’s black Schiaparelli Russian lamb coat with ermine trim.
32nd street blurs and all I smell is tangerines madness and Bandit.
The French resistance rises in my blood .
Wine is the blood of ….crusades
The whole block is covered in cobwebs now…
The street is gaslit
The wind picks up and I see meself across the street laying down my cashmere coat so that you may pass .
Is this is the new me….?
In the distance a house is on fire.
Don’t put out to sea without first checking the swell maps.
Water water everywhere but not a drop to drink.
I move to cross the street to meet the new me and
Then I realized the Light turned Green .