Watch teen couples sit close on the benches in the cold of Fermi park, roses are still blooming there and the lamps click on late. Men are still playing chess on the edge of Maria Hernandez park and loitering at the Newsstand. I boil water in a glass kettle for coffee as soon as i wake up and open the curtains for the plants- feels quiet. I live in a city of over 10 million but don’t feel it. My toothpaste turns to blue-grey from red wine at night.
I move to a big studio with Brendon and fill it with new white furniture, bird keepers let thousands of birds out to fly at dusk in my new neighborhood and the light comes in from one side to the other through the day in the nicest way. i paint the window frames white and get some on my clothes- think about my aunt who painted homes and always wore paint stained jeans. think about my father sending me snapchat videos of crickets and asking me if i can hear them too. i cry three or four times this month about nothing, the new french press breaks within a week and we buy jugs of expensive stupid cold latte drink at the corner store instead because we’re not poor anymore. I let three nuns into my cafe before it's open with wet rain ponchos over their habits they surround me and ask in their way if they can pray for anything for me, I think for a long time with them looking at me but just ended up saying ‘no’. They give me some virgin mary pendants. I feel content walking with a new bottle of wine or houseplant or my camera shooting pictures of pretty clouds or flowers or too many of those birds flying but there’s no content.