Four Weeks, One Day: a Non-Poem

Things have changed
so I suppose
I have changed them.
And maybe
I have changed too.
This year's theme might just be change.


The night gets cool here
and smells crisp,
like home.
I'm often without a coat,
because the days are so warm.
I was sunburned yesterday sitting outside,
writing at a cafe,
looking at celebrities.
Or their husbands.

There are a lot of beautiful people here,
but I do not resent the effort it takes to live here,
the way I did in New York.
And it does take effort!
Effort to truck across town,
to wait at a light for twenty minutes.
The traffic here is as bad as they say,
but the moments between moments
are savored.
Forced quiet
forced thought
forced optimism.

There have been bad days,
and last week I was so sick and delirious
I almost booked a flight home.
In the thick of the sick (ness),
I forget life on the outside.
Those days, it doesn't mean anything to me
to feel the burn of the sun marking your skin.
It is forgotten.

But I'm back outside now,
and breathing this different air.
This new air snaking through my body,
whistling and moving.
It feels like my body is
finally settling
into itself.
The house that creaks has history.

I am glad to be here.
Seeing,
hearing,
and feeling
in Los Angeles.

---
That being said, I miss the shit out of NY. Especially after watching this:


A Year in New York from Andrew Clancy on Vimeo.