New York fits you / I imagine you are happiest here / as an exhilarated child in Times Square looking up at the light of your dream / Playing matador with taxi cabs is dangerous but not as dangerous as standing still / the ultimate torture /
handcuffed to a banal production / one that never closes / and that your role is servant to lesser bodies
Yes that is hell but is not New York / there are subways here that echo your sensibilities in huge copper whistles OPEN ALL NIGHT / like the diners you frequent / Diners that attempt nostalgia but achieve exposed nails / and you know New York / sometimes you are gone for days at a time / on happy dry benders / See the Jaguar opened on Broadway / closed after five performances / You rode your motorcycle and didn’t need food / The Immoralist opened / they flung flowers at the door / New York stays up late / today is a different sentence / but the stage door remains / still has dents of the flowers they threw
You ride your motorcycle enjoying hamburgers and beer / women / men / the city is yours and you know it / you can always live in it / matadors have innumerable alleys in which to dodge bulls disguised as taxi cabs / so many alleys to wander down / there is no alley that will suffice / only solace in movement
Most of the strangers we see here / are caught up in the momentum of being estranged / go / as you no longer need the artificial light to know where you are going
Thank you, Heath.
2 comments:
I was like, what poem is this???? Because there was no mention of the author! But then I googled and found Matador Days and thought I'd include the link to it in my comment. How in the world did you ever find it?! So interesting how you were just comparing Heath and James Dean!
Yeah I read this fictional story type deal loosely based on Heath's last days in Esquire right after he died and it was all about him roaming around the streets of New York, in and out of bars and restaurants. It really reminded me of Matador Days and obviously the James Dean comparison is already there so I thought it was really perfect. Way more so than anything I could ever write.
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