Balanchine Beneath The Lichtenstein

nobody@flickr.com (lorenzodom) — Fri, 23 Mar 2007 05:12:04 -0700

lorenzodom posted a photo:

New York City, Friday, March 23, 2007:

The Empty Bed

I listen to the classical station now—
when I wake up, while working
at midnight.

The music, somber, occasionally,
carefully exuberant, soothes me
somehow.

Yet, my bed still feels empty,
even with me in it.

The sheets are often disheveled;
I don’t make my bed anymore.

I’ve run everyday, since.

Motivated to break the curse
Motivated to move beyond
Motivated to move on.

I prod myself, pressing,
“Just Six More Miles of Pain,”
and then I’ll forget, and then
I’ll let memory fail.

I ran in the rain last night,
The pitter-patter helped me forget—
a requiem of forget, forget, forget.

For sometimes, some things
just aren’t worth forgiving.

Along the way I passed
barbershops, beauty salons, many bodegas;
there were money launderers (Cash Your Check Here)
and many laundromats too;
restaurants included: fried chicken, Chinese take-out,
rice and beans.

It seems that I like the fear I feel,
it seems real—while running alone at night
In Harlem—the fear helps me forget.

Apparently, they eat a lot of donuts here too.

It’s nice to see the same dealers
on the same stoops, on the same street corners;
Papís, daddies, brothers, crews
doing what they do.

I’m giving myself 48 hours to get over it;
most people let these silly things drag on
interminably—nights become days, days become
weeks, weeks-months, years.

It’s been a week now.

My legs are getting stronger,
I’m quickly losing weight,
and I’m feeling better, as of late;
lately being, as of this morning.

Because, I’m alright now.

I don’t twitch when I hear your name;
when friends ask the same question
over and over again, “How is she?”
I simply smile, I speak slowly, I explain.

Then, I quickly change the subject.
It is better to forget then to let
futile emotions drag on.

Besides, I really can’t complain.
I’ve got a lot more time now.

And I listen to the classical station now—
when I wake up, while working
at midnight.

The music, somber, occasionally,
carefully exuberant, soothes me
somehow.

Although, my bed still feels empty.

*

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Groovin' NY Style

nobody@flickr.com (lorenzodom) — Mon, 02 Jan 2006 21:09:59 -0800

lorenzodom posted a photo:

this foto has been cited at: NYC Exposition

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Balanchine Beneath The Lichtenstein

Groovin' NY Style