Monday, December 8, 2008: On the Street…Flea Market Finds, NYC

The brick apartment building is shedding.
The patchwork reds and browns
crumble silently, steadily.
The bricks leave dustings of red at their bases
where the blacktop meets the foundation.

Not unlike how we deposit bits of our bodies
throughout our rooms and streets
(slivers of nail, long threads of hair),

and scarier, less visible pieces of evidence
that we identify only as dust or ash or dirt.
We scatter pieces of our surfaces on other surfaces
not unlike a trail of breadcrumbs leading to safety.

100 postings

I just wanted to thank all of my readers for the support and inspiration...today is my 100th poem (below).

And thanks, of course, to the Sartorialist, whose lens I borrow and adjust, fracture, and refocus.

Thursday, December 4, 2008: On the Street….Milan, Italy

Concern: in the eyebrows, smooth to jagged
(tree limbs, December)

Disappointment: in the voice, a small catch
(guitar string, buzz)

Purpose: in the legs, the carriage, level, constant
(bicycle wheel, forward)

December 3, 2008: On the Street….Seventh Ave., NYC

She bares her arms to the December air,
Thinks, Take that, winter.
Tracy is in no mood to accommodate,
And refuses to shiver.

Monday, December 1, 2008: On the Street….Aya 2, NYC

In Yellow Springs, Ohio,
I went into a secondhand shop
And saw a row of Doc Martens

They’d been painted with flowers
And with flames, with names
And diamonds and stars

A charm bracelet for tough girls,
Like the one working in this store
Who displayed her tattoos

Like merit badges or medals,
Proud, defiant, and just a little
Desire for recognition