One of ten, ten of one

I woke up in the city that doesn't sleep

Back in New York! It is quite cold here.

You thought there might be real content, but there isn't. There might be later. It's hard to say.

For now...

All in Black on the Streets of New York

It camouflages fat. That and timidity.
Also subway grime, fear and the pastel optimism
you wore in high school. It's cover for the thick

books you've yet to read, the opaque philosophies
you only grasp in bits. It's an answer to the push pull
question, set yourself apart or blend. It belies

the open sky you miss, birdsong, your mom's roast
in thick brown gravy while you nibble virtuous
brown rice meals. It's for the guys, clad like you,

dark side out, who touch then leave your heart exposed.
It signifies insomnia, matches your coffee, says
this place that's braced for loss is now your home.

Ona Gritz