Staying Over in Brooklyn

used to be code
for sex.
what youth!
road sodas of
Rumbler rum,
tons of fun.

I have more energy
in art now, though,
especially with a clear pond
in which to reflect,
take it all
and mix it up
into memories, milestones,
muses or mistakes.

lots of smells
are now time machines,
but anxiety has changed,
like the way we talked
placed on my smile.

I'll dream of
the Music Hall tonight,
Manhattan mornings,
where heads seemed to burst,
balloons in hands,
the whole scene in throw pillows,
until Burger King
and unreturned textmessages.

it's all so romantic,
especially the leaving.