A little insight into my recent trip to NYC, in poem form:
New York, bustling city, baffling city.
Transient and permanent.
Where pedestrians sense the changing of the cross walk like dogs sensing an earthquake
And toddlers, bundled from head to toe in fluffy outerwear, waddle across the street hand in hand.
Where construction is endless
And cars zigzag like synchronized swimmers, carefully timed to the soundtrack of revving engines and honking horns.
Where police men use their wise guy voices to yell at pedestrians for standing in a taxi zone
And bartenders ask for your life story like they're an old friend rekindling a connection.
Where avocados are scarce and overripe
And bottled water is frowned upon because tap water is actually drinkable.
Where the weather flip flops more than politicians
And elevators are smarter than people.
Where uber drivers barter for a cash ride
And tell you they're from "almost Russia" instead of saying Uzbekistan.
Where churros flatten to become two ends of an ice cream sandwich
And doughnuts come in more flavors than ice cream.
Where two fountains flow downward into square abysses, drawing you in to remember that all the surrounding names were people once
And where magazines moved in to reinforce the lifestyle that two planes tried so hard to bring down.
Where all the flights are delayed
And you don't care, because being there makes you feel like you're everywhere.