going nowhere fast,
revisiting my past.
off an airplane,
into the poetry game.
avoid Midtown altogether,
hell, throw my phone in the East River.
can't help but hide
in the poetry section at Strand.
eating streetmeat
on 3rd Ave and 85th street.
I'll kiss Erin's red lips in Queens,
escape unseen.
quick trip riveting
then back to my 2nd city.
I am burning in Brooklyn,
why won't this boat float faster?