I spend my mornings knitting a soft bridge
between my dream and my subway ride.
Last night I dreamed of music,
live karaoke in a wrestling gym,
if you must know.
And if I am the kind of person who needs
that extra whatever-it-is,
I will weave it in,
whenever I can.
It could be as simple as a higher heel,
a costume, a poem read just before bed,
something fantastical to remind me of
what I want my life to be.
The Manhattan Bridge affords several views
of my ideas of New York,
the city of the perpetually unsatisfied.
Maybe other people's lives
are so delicately nuanced by
tender realities and
solid touches that
they don't need it all,
any of this,
a Broadway musical from the 90's
much too loud
to color in the perimeters of the gray skyline.
Originally published over at A Thing of Today.
