Safe to say . . .
I can be free now, if I choose to be.
Safe to say
that I can walk in any direction
or cross the street
or find a little café
and strike up a conversation
with some out-of-town person
who never saw
The Empire State Building
live and in-person.
It has been a while since 14th Street
or the times when I felt
that “certain” feeling of romance
when life was young, and I was single.
My world was consumed with different things
and I . . .
I was a young man on the prowl.
It is not too far from me now,
my past, that is,
that I have forgotten
what it means to “be sexy,”
or feel something undeniable
as in “deep” inside of me.
However,
I think the dance has changed
and then again,
so has everything else.
Come to think of it,
I wonder something:
Does anybody dance anymore?
Safe to say that life is different.
Safe to say that people have changed as well,
and yes, it is even safer to say
that the world has become distracted
by technology,
whereas people have lost contact
and now,
people have become almost mindless
and they sit across from one another
yet no one speaks or interacts,
they only text
or scroll through social media pages
or live virtually rather than literally
or viscerally.
That’s why I ask
if anyone dances anymore
or loves to ~
Safe to say
that I would like to see the rebirth of jazz
I would like to see a rebirth of coffee shops
where coffee mugs are the size of soup bowls
and music plays from the speakers
and, of course, we can sit back and talk
with music from the golden oldies
playing in the background, like say,
back when I used to write in coffee shops
and record what I saw
and New York—ah, my City
my Town,
my place of reason or of dreams
and more than anything,
you are my place of solace,
or personal resurrection
and recovery, and of course,
you have been my playground
and my place of worship
and my source of inspiration
and the trigger to the word
which I call hope.
We have a history, my City and me
that ranges from better times
and fashionable moments
to the crazy times
or the nights that took place
back when high-heeled,
and long-legged professionals
sold their bodies
in ounces of flesh
for moments of cash.
I have walked your streets for decades,
and still, I am just a minor in a major world;
whereas, the world is big and I am small,
you are infinite and my time is only finite—yet,
safe to say,
I have things to do.
I have things to say.
I have people to meet
and a race to finish.
Safe to say
that I am undoubtedly growing,
moving outwards,
or circling like a bird in the sky
with wings outstretched
and motionless,
hovering, and hanging above the skyline,
like the falcons I used to see
near the Met Life Building.
Ah, New York . . .
Comfort me like you used to..
Heal me with your spirit.
Comfort me like you have in the past
like a Mother when she stands at the door
to welcomes her child
who came home for a visit
and feed me your warmth,
like a bowl of tomato soup,
with rice
hot as ever,
and healing as can be.
Sing me to sleep, Mother Almighty
and let me rest in your heart
and heal me by morning.
I know the order is tall
but my heart is at your mercy
and your spell
is all that can cure me.
I know
the world is unending and still growing.
And me?
I am fused in the sense that my body is at capacity
and I am fully grown,
yet, there are other ways to grow.
There are other things to see
and other places to notice
and while
my fascination for you has never changed,
I understand the difference in your landscapes
and how they are only surface level
but deep down,
you and I are still kindred.
(I know this)
We always were because
we always have been.
Safe to say
that I will never
have the chance to revisit the old studios
or stand on some of the same rooftops
or film like I used to.
Safe to say
the diner on 23rd Street
is not the way it used to be
and neither is Stingy LuLu’s
which is gone from St. Mark’s,
but not forgotten.
I am still hopeful
and still
I am and will always be
a hopeless romantic.
Nothing can stop that . . .
No,
however, my choices to whom I share this with have changed
which means
I value my treasures too much to waste them
or as “the book” says,
I will not “cast my pearls before swine:
or “share what is sacred unto dogs.”
No . . .
My treasure has too much worth.
Safe to say
that my love will never fade,
that my heart will always shine
brighter than Times Square
and safe to say,
that my fascination with
O’Hara and Carroll
and Burroughs and Kerouac
and safe to say
that my dream to somehow
find a place
where my life fits perfectly,
or a place where my words can meet the world
and we can celebrate this
in some mutually beneficial circumstance;
and safe to say
that perhaps someday,
the lights will rise and the curtain will lift,
and whether the house is packed
or empty,
safe to say that someday,
I will find a way to pull off my trick
and speak out to the world
live and on stage.
Ah, my City.
Like you said Jim . . .
“The City is on my side!”
It’s going to be summer soon—
I think I’ll go for a walk more often,
and see the Downtown scene
or find a spot,
or maybe,
I’ll grab an old favorite.
like a soda . . .
a dirty water dog from the hotdog cart
put on some mustard, ketchup and sauerkraut
and maybe a knish
or, we can top it off with a pretzel
with salt and mustard
To go—
(Of course)
The Written Addiction 