5 Fragments from New York City

Wheat & Tares

MoMA Prelude
Urgently, I text my mother
from near Times Square.
I tell her I just ate
a falafel burger!
In Kentucky, she reads
my text and grins.
I know this because
she introduced me to falafels.

The Starry Night to Naked Eyes
From five paces away
I see rolling waves
of dreamy blue.
Gentle suns encircled
by curling breeze—
brushed flourishes
like cupcake frosting.

My Birth through Photographs
From a distance, I see
lots of nudes, walls filled
with snapshots in the raw—
probably one of those
in-your-face feminist exhibits.

Up close, I see I’m right.
But I also see fetuses
halfway to born—walls
papered with graphic birthing
portraits of mothers mid-
contraction. Breathing
before everything I’ve ever
wanted to say about life
in poetry, I feel won over.

The Starry Night through Glasses
From five steps back, I see
chipped lines of confrontation,
glinting starbursts contained
by abrasive…

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