Skip to main content

Delancey street

truth is
I never did know how to love
so in the nights I
flicked on the screen
and let my soul fall with with the cloudy white snow flakes
over yet another manhattan new years happy ending
and for another 15 minutes falling through the jewel light
of the shimmering city skyline
I was whole

I would steal the one liners from the street florists
and the confessions of the heart off the city side walks
I'd smoke my cigarettes in the softness of my dark room
and blow the smoke through the blue light towards the ceiling
waiting
savioring them words
saving them silver nitrate heart beats
for the next girl to show up en route some place completely different
such as marriage
such as love

I can't love and can't sleep so I
visit the late night movie shows
we sit few and far between
I watch the couples when the light comes on
they rub the fiction from their eyes and smile
to each other
drowsily like newborn

he helps her with her coat and as they leave
I turn my attention to the credits and all these
names from the bible

on cold winter nights there is a tune playing on
delancey street and when I'm brave enough
strong enough
determined enough
me enough
I walk to the middle of the bridge through the biting wind
where you can here it perfectly

other nights I just
flick the screen on
and let my soul fall with the snow flakes
over another manhattan happy ending
while I memorize the one liners for another girl
en route to somebody completely different
and light another

cigarette
Labels:

Comments

  1. laurenSeptember 18, 2009 at 8:03 AM

    they rub the fiction from their eyes and smile
    to each other
    dowsily like newborn

    ReplyDelete
  2. Clas le PetitDecember 2, 2009 at 5:34 PM

    Just beautiful!

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

What is the problem with men?

I'm in a bad mood. Fed up. With men. To be clear: I'm not a feminist, I don't believe men to have a rape gene or to be incapable of acting decently due to sociological constraints, general upbringing or an in general evil manhood into which we are socialised. Never the less, I'm truly fed up with the way certain men behave towards women. Part of the reasons are purely egoistic: I'm fed up with being treated like a potential moron, molester or rapist. I'm tired of noticing how women ahead start speeding up when I'm quietly walking home at night, and having too slow down or change sidewalks not to scare her. And a few months ago in New York City I was unable to get a girl to date me, to even meet me in a restaurant, partly because of her previous encounters with inconsiderate schmucks and madmen. Instead we talked on the phone for some 8 (!) hours, half of which was devoted to her interrogating me as to whether I was a stalker, madman, alcoholic or something o...
9 comments
Read more

Shul behaviour and pot smoking

So how exactly should you behave in Shul? I mean on one hand it is fairly simple: Just pick up any standard “Judaism for dummies” book and it will tell you that during service s Shul is a house of prayer, period, and the only conversation that should be going on is the individuals and the congregations conversation with the Almighty. On the other hand we have the facts of reality, maybe best summoned up by the following comment: “Well....Feinstein goes to Shul to speak to God....me I go to Shul to speak to Feinstein.” I guess at least in small Diaspora communities, there is only so much you can do about it. We tend to have enough problems to get a Minyan together as it is. So as long as people don’t start babbling during the Amidah, babbling is more or less tolerated. Then again, severe conflicts of interest occur, specifically during High Holidays. Because then a lot of people who otherwise never attend Shul turns up, bumping into other more or less secular Jews who they only meet on...
1 comment
Read more

Touchdown boy II

Action shots * Landed on Ben Gurion and as I started to walk out of the place a see a woman holding a sign with my name on it. She takes me through customs, a few corridors and sits me down in front of a very thin greyish file clerk who looks like a depressed Russian. The Clerk gives me a bunch of papers and 1200 shekels in cash and a Taxi voucher. * First Shabbes. Quentin takes me to Shul and I meet Rabbi Nissim for the first time. Pavlova sits across from me at the Shabbes table and gives me dirty looks and asks his son in Spanish whether he believes I'm Jewish or nor, and whether I'm Ashkenazi or not. Then he starts on a monologue of how everyone in his family are Jewish, Sephardi, except his former wife who is Ashkenazi. When we walk home he tells me in Spanish that dressing white and black for Shabbes is not a Jewish thing: "You have no idea why you do that!! You understand nothing! You think you so religious, you think you are better than me??? I'm Sephardi, ...
3 comments
Read more