1913issue6online

141 Asleep in New York in the 1970s Oh ankle boots you are so well matched to my hat on its side on the steps. And the rest of my chosen garments: my thumb grips a step, my knee your other knee. My big toes, my ankle bones, and so on. My white stripes and zippers accentuate. I’m stark. The strong line of mouth makes my chin just occur. My shut eye turns down the steps, rummaging through button- less pockets. It’s so pleasant. The granite in the steps is all the things I’ve ever worked through horizontally. I am facing the sky still to make it clear I just needed a moment, that this is but a lapse, not a full break. My hand palms my head. And sheen of boots and plaid of hat, I fit together.

1913issue6online

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