in

west new york

Image via Henri Matisse

down hudson ave

charred grits of grilled cheese collect

on rusted grates and

the plastic grocery bags

seem to be as oscillating as

the r’s dug into the ridges of our tongues

apartment twenty-two wore

composition books and heavily accented phonetics

and maybe we won’t sluggishly carry milk cartons

from the bodega next door

up the tarnished stairwells

maybe we’ll be haste in stride so we can have time

to cup wind-swept afternoons among the rifts of our palms

and swallow golden rays of guileless laughs

we can relish within beams of bachata

and incise the sound of relentless car honks

let’s coat ourselves in self-indulgence

in crowded masses of bergenline ave

let’s immure ourselves in golden memories

before feeling the harsh prick of clear-cut lawns

Advertisements

What do you think?

0 points
Upvote Downvote

Total votes: 0

Upvotes: 0

Upvotes percentage: 0.000000%

Downvotes: 0

Downvotes percentage: 0.000000%

Written by Brittany Adames

Brittany Adames is a seventeen-year-old Dominican-American writer from Pennsylvania. She spends time writing poetry and leaving short stories half-finished.

Leave a Reply

5 Easy Tips For Becoming An Early Riser

Daniel Caesar “Freudian” Album Review