2am halfway to Manhattan
November 3, 2010 § 2 Comments
Across the bridge, Talia way ahead. The wind cuts through. I’m gulping down the late night chill, biking home from social madness, drinking drinking, a flurry of photographers with ADD. It was warm where we had come from, the small apartment in Red Hook, as it should be, crammed as it was with bodies looking for some company in the late fall. Stanley Greene came in his black beret. I wanted to dance, but spoke of psychological births and early hospital experiences instead. We left before the bodies began groping in earnest. It was a long way to get home on two wheels.