i may have had a few too many but i think
this piece makes me who i am
i mean was

witty (who cares)
careful (nice)
tender

and thought
(full)

–

A snare drum sizzles in the sunlight a
humid jazz standard drenches
the air in Washington
Square

And sometimes mountains jut
out towards the
sky

so high you’d swear
they were
flying

mindgallery . twitter

 

 

 

Despite the pandemic, it appears that people in NYC are trying to live a new kind of normal with masks and social distancing. But musicians playing jazz standards in Washington Square Park on a humid summer night? Maybe someday that will come back too. After all, it’s those kinds of bits and pieces that make a place what it is.

The solution, dangling off the other lobe. My favorite pair of earrings.

√-1=i

“i”: imaginary, the mathematical symbol which represents the largest category of numbers.
The imaginary is always bigger than what’s real, isn’t it?

In the flesh, a finite infinity. In the spirit an infinite infinity.

We’re alchemists
We present one another coal and transform each other into gold
You’re gold in me and I’m gold in you. Never meant to be kept
Gifts to one another
That’s called love

Inside out
There’s you in me and me in you and you and me alone. With each other but separated from ourselves.

You and
I
A poetic solution
A mind that is a mirror.
I can’t see my own eyes.
So who am I?
Invisible to myself
Inside of you
But not in front of you

The flesh is firm. The boundaries are impermeable. The solidness. You’re both outside and inside. We’re one in word and two fact. We were too close outside and inside too far away. Now we’re inside too close and outside too far away

I want nothing more than a moment face to face. To be silent or speak softly. It took time to understand. Patience that my hunger couldn’t stand. Now it’s calm here and clear. Lets have a moment. To be. Not for fulfillment of expectations. Not for a future or past. Simply a moment for the fear and the love. To pop the bubble. To real-ize

 

 

 

This found poem from the Brooklyn missed connections is from years ago and I’ve held on to it all this time because I liked the reference to imaginary numbers. But now, when I see the image of the face behind a fully opaque mask, I can’t help but think about everything that is happening in the world today. A deadly and mysterious virus combined with a deadly and mysterious federal police force. Is imaginary always bigger than what’s real? Perhaps not.

And sometimes it’s so hard
to wind down
and

pack it in every night
then start again
at day
light

–

And the blind leading
the blind well
we’ve

been watching that
for some
time

now

mindgallery . twitter

 

 

 

I have to wonder if mindgallery titled this poem after he had inputted all the text into the Craigslist Missed Connections form and uploaded the image. Seriously, you couldn’t ask for a more appropriate pairing (in more ways than one).