#767560 added December 4, 2012 at 12:00am Restrictions: None
Beginning of Advent
Here's a fast poem I came up with this morning. Good for a laugh.
New York Love
Self-consciously fourteen
longing for sophistication
I sat, pressed against the window
to see the cities spreading out
beneath me on this cloudless night,
their white and sometimes red lights
mapping out the land. Repeatedly
I asked my father what town we
were over now, was it New York yet?
Each time he’d make a guess, maybe
Cleveland, maybe Pittsburgh, but
when we came to New York City
I would know it. And I did, because
there was no end to lights.
Romantically I told myself that
Love would be that way. Many stops
might look like love, but when I
reached it I would know for sure.
Six years later, seeking happiness, I
think I stopped in Boston by mistake.
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