36th Street

After a long day of speech therapy and wandering around the city, I take a shortcut to return back to my hotel. 36th street. A random street. The sun has disappeared behind the clouds. The street is quiet, a welcomed change from Park Avenue. I’m halfway down between Park and Lexington when I notice aContinue reading “36th Street”

August in the City

I wrote this poem last year on a park bench in Washington Square Park. I carried an umbrella, walking down Fifth Avenue, waiting for the rain to fall. I held one of Patti Smith’s first books at the Strand. I admired Robert Mapplethorpe’s photographs at the Guggenheim. I told a man from Africa about ToniContinue reading “August in the City”