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