Number 10: A Poem

  I am walking home.   Strange that this place This huge city with its Screaming sirens And constant thrum of activity Has come to be that place called "home."   I watch as my feet cover the distance Between here - where I am And there - where I will be, Step by step... Continue Reading →

Number 9

I’m trying to become a runner.   It’s not easy – party because I’m out of shape generally, and partly because I don’t and haven’t ever seen myself this way.   I don’t like being sweaty or uncomfortable (it doesn’t feel satisfying or productive. I never come out and say “look how gross I am!... Continue Reading →

Number 8: A Poem

It would be nice if time was allotted to prepare for the end of a world.   If you had time, you'd pack a backpack With your toughness and durability, And an assortment of comforting snacks. You would take time to put on your armor To strap your empathy and also your suspicion to your... Continue Reading →

Number 7

I’m back! It’s been a while, but nothing like a new year to pick up a project, dust it off, and try again. Like most people, January 1 sends me into a positive frenzy of reflection and anticipation. A new year feels infinite, full of potential and possibility, and filled with all the sparkly promise... Continue Reading →

Number 6: A Poem

For Emily, who didn't have coloring books   Her mother wouldn’t let her have coloring books for fear that she would learn to color within the lines. Instead, she gave her blank white pieces of paper and charcoal pencils and watercolors.   Sometimes, she envied her friends for the ease of their predetermined lines, the... Continue Reading →

Number 5

Right around the time that my next blog post was “due”, Matthew and I moved from our shared apartment in Queens to our very own place in Coney Island. I am a pretty good mover at this point. In fact, I’ve done it so many times that, a year or so ago, when I was... Continue Reading →

Number 4

New Yorkers have a lot of strong feelings about the Subway. Somehow, the MTA manages to be both the greatest pride and deepest frustration of anyone in New York City. “It’s so great – having a car is really more of a hindrance than a help when the subway runs 24/7 and goes everywhere. It's... Continue Reading →

Number 3: A Poem

THE MIDDLE YEARS For Parkland, and students everywhere ~ Some days, it can feel like you are too big for your body and on other days too small like tiny you is rattling around somewhere near your feet looking wistfully up at your head and wondering how in God’s name you could ever get back up there.... Continue Reading →

Number 2

  It's hard to be still in the middle of a place like Grand Central Station. I've been temping here. Sitting at a tiny glowing kiosk that sells jewelry in the middle of a busy passage. Across from me, tracks 17 & 16 and 15 & 14 are portals to destinations. People run towards them.... Continue Reading →

Number 1

When I moved to New York City, I was pretty sure I didn't want to be here. Even from a distance, it was Too Big. Too Loud. Too Bright. It felt mean and unwelcoming. When I had arrived in other cities, it had felt as though the city said, "Welcome! Come have tea and wear... Continue Reading →

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