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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