today tone changed, something other came out

Untangled lovers finally take their limbs back, goodbye sigh good bye, exaggerated effects, once he has left she will tell her friend “he was emotional, so honest and brave, it means he’ll have thoughts of me, call me, love me”. How do I break the news, he was believable, that is all, it could be read on his tongue’s fine print, hadn’t she looked there? Not thinking never thinking feelings feared as he promised a call by winter when genders develop infatuations for sex, the sex that is, I’ll have to find someone by then, preferably Manhattan man biker aesthetic, clinging, magnetic hands, “cross street without me, I’ll cry, you miserable egomaniac, could have been hit, then what happens to me!” warmth, we must have our bodies pressed, desperately decreasing draft, come inside where it’s not so chilly, eventually eat hunger away, not starving, no more, feeling makes me sick, smell it, I’ll heave, strip sheets gloved hand drags down stairway, hurl them on an avenue corner, maybe someone else will want to use you.

Winded on grassy slopes, exposed bellies, stoic trees, broken lovers have no shadows either. Backs on blankets, eyes searching for clouds Manhattan does not have, lie waiting for world to come.

How fortunate, I am to begin. Mornings walked instep, outpourings of others, disconnected realms merging, footprints down different street’s spines, flowing into one distinct city pace, connecting, colliding, then moving on, forgotten faces where can they be refound? Type, post, no one does the genuine gesture anymore, make it sound with love cords, in letter’s voice say I was the one, one and only female in black, all black, no color, colorless nameless beautiful woman who glowed, short hair, can’t hold it in big hand, “are you an actress? maybe your mother?” Jean Seberg had she a child before suicide, being suicidal had she wanted a daughter? So lonely pretty talented adored so breathless like me.

Try not to stare as man pulls key from his pocket. I have seen this done before, car key no longer silver but white beneath nose inhale blink open and key is silver, magic trick, things naturally back to normal. But he is not a magician, shoving key into ear, removing build up of some sort, yolk colored wax. Unsuccessful, unclipped pinky nail digs, his finger a hook in canal catches treasure unburies it between front teeth, making quick sucking sound barely heard over conversing cars, but I heard I saw it all out of eye’s corner and one ear alone. All things are everything to write about. Setting early morning. Subject legless woman. Scene woman watching neighborhood wake up, restless in wheelchair on sidewalk, people walking by confidently coffee in one hand iPod in other, modern day hand weights, eyes ahead see through everything so far beyond that thoughts think outside this world, do not acknowledge woman in wheelchair going nowhere, sitting beneath the young sun same street on the route they walk everyday, walking walking ahead of even themselves, she is taking it easy, catching a breather, having no legs in her pants she sits hoping the world, this young generation, will move her. Same thing every day on sixth street between second and third avenue. What was the last street she walked? does she remember? will she want to? has she ever walked? does she know how it feels? She may know best, all of us, maybe we have forgotten.

“You’re sexy” echoed between C and Layfatte. It’s like telephone, that game? and a line is passed on on and on five times attaching to me, let it go, they try harder launching word-darts bull’s-eye ass! stings hickey on neck, yes that ridiculous, ravenous, a vampire was the guest on Tyra Bank’s Talk Show Thursday, said seriously he is real, vampire, community of them, three different types, he’s hybrid, no he’s indecisive lost afraid past can’t be separated from present, memories provide safety show things go somewhere but he’s embarrassed of who he was, can’t relate, hates how he was treated, still hurt no one will forgive him for slapping high school sweetheart when she said he was kissing her too hard “softer, you’re hurting me” and so he did, hurt her, because she thought of it first when he was too busy tasting her, nothing feels the same, he desires distance won’t help him forget but will help others forget him, then can start over, be better this time, but he does not like energy of normal world, stays inside studying, vampire textbooks? philosophy? I’ll Google when home Amazon place my order, drinks blood, nothing mixed with HIV, heroine, no crackie’s blood thank you, Tyra eying him entire episode “boy you sound crazy” but she is the one becoming crazy, day after she will bring her “babies” on, models super models characters acting as super super super models in reality, this phenomenon told to be real, I am confused, are all happenings in reality real or is it just a coincidence, the root being in the larger grander word, wait could one of the two be a trick a joke, I think I am on to something, then there will be laughter? “Okay now go, off into real world, make mamma proud, eat veggies or buy pizza and change your career, runs in the genes, now go, bye bye super babies” commercial break then Tyra’s fluttering eyes smiling glorifing a female who blames her boyfriend for having “brofriends” no this is serious he told him that he loved him, something is wrong too many hims! grammatically incorrect, real romance, in a text message. Tyra laughing first, the yawn effect, audience becomes chorus of hysterics, all because they want to be her, do as she, she wanting them to be fans standing in for feeling. Hyenas pissing pants pointing at two males who god forbid care feel aren’t so damn cold rock hard, now confused, because of this absurd prank? laugher makes them feel wrong think “bad behavior!” bewitched change them in a snap Tyra and followers inflating penis give kids something to play with eyes will never smile never blink again because they won’t see or be able to think, now no longer feeling, either.

Thanks Tyra, superstar feminist, for helping lessen the divide, demeaning them, branding all of us gender “FEMALE…no not under my arm…behind me…single file line…HERE” “MALE…keep moving…further…away…THERE”. College education can do wonders minimize amount of backwards directions screwing us all up, I don’t want to be near you, I want to be closer to him! But I am supposed to feel liberated? by this woman who moment keeping it real became marketable forgot how to do it or just went on to another project, some mogul making idea? I am embarrassed, embarrassed! she, the feminine voice of our generation, encouraging females to stand up shouting, angry because they have a vagina and are entitled to be moody, as if they worked hard to get their vagina in the first place. Let them set flame to their tampons, they’ll just have to blow harder in the end, while doing so, I will be collecting their hall passes and burning them in front of their television screen. “You’re fierce” calling calling through my thoughts, so aroused dries me up. “Short sophisticated bob, let me make you wild, tug hair, pull it long like a lady’s” they saw the way I touched my hair, liked the way I touched myself, imagined how I might if letting them see me letting myself. Bite lip, they think I have appeal, elbowing partner in crime, rolling shoulders back like “hey pretty mama lemme come all over you mind” but really I just hold tension in my jaw, and nothing nasty ever tasted good, pass on trying, kind of stuck in my ways, I know better, think outside the box, possibility they want to see me smile lighten me up not be so serious, few bored lonely men will not ruin day, swagger, background noise doesn’t make it on my mix, choose soundtrack carefully it effects the entire show.

Coins tossing, shake shake no no not a panhandler chiming cents at car window, eyes staring down at you all safe in seatbelt as hand tries covering BMW symbol centered circle of life other hand gripping leather wheel, shining just polished, metaphor for what? Thinking you’ve tricked him, don’t worry it’s not immoral we all do it, lie? no never! just say some things, no it isn’t wrong, being smart is not your fault, don’t let anyone place blame, sure sign of projection, I’ll tell them, you cannot avoid being calculating. But that does not mean everyone believes trusts is convinced by you either, and hey it’s not like being discrete is what you wanted not “the look” you know won’t drink that cup of tea, there’s a BMW symbol on car’s front, like an arm extending a trophy under all losers’ noses, riding on rims tints “you can’t see me but that don’t mean I’m not real” after 911 time to eliminate terror privacy is crucial, faceless need space but wanna get close, real close on internet, come for me make sure everyone is logged in watching ever expanding cry, to be known heard all the places that can’t be seen. Car vibrating booty shaking in seat to a beach song and all you’ve got to do is cruise, just cruising when he knocks window, mumbling money, you’ve got tons not sure the amount dad said his kids couldn’t count that high just think mega like family is made, but you wave him away hand pushing air between each other emphasizing distance priority, you don’t have time to talk, he doesn’t want to either, no way, some change, a bit more he can go get what he wants cheeseburger? mcflurry extra m&ms only red ones? “anything for our loyal customers” wow special okay how about a bit of coke, don’t go out of your way wouldn’t want that, just a salt shake for good luck make my day, how about it can I get some cocaine? “I don’t have any money either!” oh mad now, real fired up. Why not be real, why did you say that? Tell him you don’t have any money because you just spent it all, and the piggy bank, tell him where it is, storage, you never were one to save. Maybe you will see him soon.

Jingles coming from waist, dark skinned man shaded by umbrella big bright parachute-like lending tone dimension to face making him a more colorful character than he is. Waves wad of bills high above drifting heads, from arm up he looks like a savior, employed on Wall Street right out of Stern graduate school first paycheck cashed heavy in hand “come on boys let’s go blow it, see how quick we can make it go” all come racing with certain amount of cool, pride, like they have money in pockets too, this is why they love him, so good to people, one of few reasons, maybe only, one asks one shall receive.

On display bananas, bending in mouth I can’t eat them without laughing, Ziploc baggies packed with nuts, apples Fuji Macintosh two for a buck, score! grapes buy freeze wait morning candy in the icebox, trust me Rene Zellweger does it says they trick her sweet tooth every time and she looks like she doesn’t eat anything but egg whites grapefruit water. Catching my attention papayas lay orange under my reach radiating ripe earth newly plucked soft scoops of tasteless beta-carotene confidential laxative eat after protein and nothing will stick to bones helped weight remain hovering in little bitty hundreds a few months luck of the draw and I achieved two digit number, remember those? all five nine of me, people worried I was on my last heartbeat that I would die resembling a prepubescent boy. I am better now, every day spent sensibly, psychotic patterns of anorexic lessen, granted skin turned cantaloupe orange around ears palms beneath nose looked like self-tanner splats, child’s art project, big mess, ridiculous disaster, which was me. Still fiend them though, encouraged by effect or taste I cannot be sure but seven dollars later it is mine, bought, handed over like gold, knee almost collapses pathetic display that would be starving girl near crash death papaya rescued heart cushioning her fall all she had to save her. Wow heavy as a log! “much better taste” the assurance I need from the man in a canopy of light.

Where to go from here? Happy hour isn’t yet four to seven “manmosa” pint of mashed fruit drowned at bottom in pool of champagne or so they claim probably no better than sparkling wine but I am far passed embodying ego for complaining, ten dollars buys you happiness need for nap and hangover before time when practical people, that select group who has their shit together, are beginning nighttime life, I can’t drink alone anyway will feel like Halloween take two, lower east side “the spot” Plan-B outpouring of holiday enthusiasts high on tootsie rolls fear factor acid still soaking tongue and I am just slumped over dressed as myself because for once in my life I just want to be me drinking a Black Russian breasts smashed on bar counter alluding dairy makes bones calcified strong cleavage illusion! posture straight and these utters are just hanging out but I am confident in some corner of myself, alone on Halloween in staring contest with bartender, multitasking taking straw small and impotent, a disservice for sucking, have it touch glasses’ rim, an over determined circling, he would know, wasn’t even drunk but it had been done before, placing remnants of this vocal gesture on my tongue, swallowing what he had mixed, eyeing him thank you, this is exactly what I need, which is a lie but he would find me follow me home mesmerized by my way “amazing how you can be alone, call the shots, confidence, so sexy in a woman, few like you, makes me mad, most unique” last part makes me think he has a sense of humor in place of brains, I lose interest forget to edit what I say or do it all becomes a story I can pass down a bedtime tale a game, Go Fish Scrabble or Marco Polo, close eyes I’ll hide find me, figure me out, he was either a genius, soul-mate or victim of me, unavoidable contradiction, having all this hope inspired by idealized image of who, me? exterior encouraging expectations of interior, you’re over-thinking, when all I cared about then and there was avoiding holidays spent absolutely alone.

Taking advantage of achievement I let loose crazy in bed but come morning I felt mattress become lighter and behind shut eyes sensed him sneaking out confused having checked closet to see if composure was a costume I had hung and retired or choice b, he vanished feeling I had already grown attached, “she knew my jeans were Levis, chick was wild dude, stay around any longer she’d have read my mind, studied my soul” 17th time he’d have shared story, this time telling his version to some bloodshot middle aged man just laid off from work desperately attempting to drink real problems away, not enough spirits here for that, sorry sir gonna haveta’ cut ya off. Wringing washcloth, sponge of liquor over sink, he would think hard, trying to concentrate instead on memorizing obscure shots requested by guys looking to show Jersey girls a good weekend trip in the big bad city, what a waste, I hadn’t felt anything aside from less lonely and content with what I had got, a gasm-glow that won’t wipe off for weeks, holding me over, which didn’t mean much.

Can do anything, places within a place streets stretched with options, neighborhoods like a town in themselves, not here? Get on subway, go, 6 train Astor Place heading Uptown Pelham Bay Park pass 14th street three after that 42nd street Grand Central get off West towards Madison Avenue New York’s Public Library kiss lion’s cheek climb steps stand under arch feel royal or like I’m in Paris taking pictures of landmarks thank goodness I know this one’s name, could never pronounce anything foreign never even tried “my language is English your words are not in my vocabulary” these things can be taught “no no useless useless wouldn’t want to waste our time so precious”. Guggenheim is an option, some experimental exhibit, museum as romantic comedy, conspiracies against human connection, spiraling narrative, labyrinthine hallways, familiar things forgotten to be seen, disappearing progressions, Pinocchio facedown on glass pool-like abstraction, Narcissus analogy, metaphor for what, Pinocchio drowning in lies? Resensitize people, make them look closer see what it is all about. Seems farfetched, Disney’s intention was never to take themselves seriously or I don’t know, maybe I was too young at the time, didn’t have to didn’t want to have anything be serious. Wandering ingenuously through ponderings, impartiality keeping me wholehearted unmoved grounded in present. Happiness easily spoken, just as easily done. Dewed eyes of enchantment not from sleep, a more ambitious escape, youth when fiction felt real. The reality that broke off falling forgetfully into oblivion where did it go?