This is Where You'll Find Me

New York City, after we lied then made rules. It shouldn’t work by a long shot but it does. You’s two look like a coupla happy birds says the jackhammer man, all lit up in sparks and a midnight streetside spotlight and the Bronx turns his birds into boyds. Walked all night wrapped temple to curve of shoulder and ribcage to brow, through subway tailwinds drafting hard up sidewalk grates like weather blown in from some subterranean ocean. Halal smoke and taxis and someone carried incense all the way from Tamil Nadu, someone brought black-eyed susans from Schenectady.