Brooklyn

i moved to New York on the day i turned
18
(a coincidence, but
it sounds romantic)
got the hell out
up to New York City

bad six months
then
first apartment
bad sublet
bad roommate
but at least the mice were cute.

i spent the summer walking
up and down bedford ave
and each person i saw
was more
beautiful
than the last.
20-somethings
girls thinner than i
not smarter, but taller
thinner
and men-children
growing facial hair just because they could
finally
because it made them look older
because it was trendy
because it made them
rugged, artistic, disheveled whatever
because because because

i fell for each one
and none of them would
ever
be mine.
all i had was $8 for cigarettes
and a
bad roommate
with her own revolving men.

then,
i had one--
a revolving man
revolving into my bed
and out my door again
into hers
(if it's yours, don't
tell me)

i spent a summer with
windows wide open
to chase out the heat
but really just
letting in dirt
but we did have cute mice
that made nests in my shoes
and a nice long walk down bedford ave
and bars
and hours and hours and
hours to pass reading
unfamous authors
knut hamson and bukowski
so much goddamned bukowski
while my man revolved
and long slow records repeat themselves
on a broken record player.

but the mice were cute.