The Poet is Highjacked from National Poetry Month
It’s your fault, New York. You grabbed me by the heart and shook out all the doubts, all the fears, all the hurts and disappointments. You ran your fingers around my brain, pulled out all the murky stuff and replaced it with the brightness of yellow taxis streaking down the avenues, the open-faced grins of locals walking dogs, the clinking glasses and laughter of after-work drinks, children running through spring kissed grass in Central Park. You, New York, you are the reason I forgot about National Poetry Month and didn’t write a single poem for nine days because you … Continue reading The Poet is Highjacked from National Poetry Month
