I wrote this | Art Poetry

HomeThe farther I get from there,
the more I remain
a New York person,
pining, though I’m not rich enough,
for a Bank Street brownstone,
and one of those dogs with a funny face
from that expensive shop on 6th Avenue,
pulling me, evenings, down the street,
feeling my taste buds going
“yum-yum”, and probably swelling obscenely,
when I think of Ray’s Pizza
on the next block.
I could be at the other end of the world.
It doesn’t matter. I’m still waiting, ready
to come home.

and this one:

Siamese Twins

With the stubs of our tickets
still attached, we would go,
arm & arm into the movie.
“We should sit together” , I said.
You’d look at me peculiarly,
as if I’d broached
the unmentionable.