ODE TO NEW YORK CITY

I’ve got your hand in my pocket
And I hold it tight through
Dull southern winters. 

I dream about stepping through your snow. 

 I carry an umbrella for you,
To shelter you [and me] from sharp criticism
That falls like rain by those who 
Don't understand you.

Remember: I held your 
Hand when those airplanes hit. 

I swam your contaminated waters
Walked your gritty and diamond surfaces
Scaled your ivory towers
And slept in your bed. 

I got to know you 
And spoke with you in dim light, 
Listened to your love stories and 
Aching heart as we sat in the stench 
Of subways and on benches. 
I welcomed your lengthy arms, draped around me 
As I navigated your streets.

I left my mark on you 
With paint and photo lenses 

 And you liked the way 
The scrubbing of my brushes felt 
On your skin
And the way my flash lit up your flaws
So beautifully.

[I know you think of me too. Wondering where I’ve been.]

I bicycled down 5th Ave
To Greenwich 
Weaving in and out of
Your yellow cabs 
Like bees, pollinating 
Concrete floors. 

You loved the way 
My feet touched the ground
At Barrow Street and how
I leaned up against your 
Buildings there. 

I rejoiced with you when 
The Hudson River cleaned up
And a path was built by its side.

I cried with you, 
When the  
Adolescent homosexuals
Were asked to leave
Christopher Street. 

[They didn’t go.]
They abandoned Jersey instead.

I was there with you at
The final count-down
Of CBGB’S
And watched it turned into a 
Men’s boutique.
[They sell nice boots there.] 

My camera was in love
With your arms, your legs,
The nape of your neck. 

I left you in a storm
Because I thought
You wouldn’t be friendly
To my children. 

Though, They love you too.

New York, 
Return to me as the moon
Returns to full, 

 Beam your magnificent
Stained life
Upon me,

 Shining through my translucent skin, 
Like a perfectly, badly lit photo. 

stephanie lorentzen-jordan

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