The Winter
Ignore the winter the summer is manic will last forever a summer of the mind a sweet sweet Santa Monica or Echo Park of the mind 100 degree weather ignore the winter forever. All things of beauty live forever I am still growing I moved I came I grew I fell the winter will never come again I had a vision I spoke to Allen he told me of Blake he told me of me. The loneliness he said it comes and then it goes and you have less hope but see more than before. Here, he said, now you can survive. What a blessing. I can survive I came I grew I died in New York City I froze and didn’t speak for months, the words came and went and then all at once, once again, the summer; yet I ignored the winter, and it can’t stay forever silent. New York your solitude stabbing at hidden, skies do you understand the giants you created have atrophied, their hearts lost their foundation crumbling? New York, New York, the poet of the past said to me the words the words they still hold court the king the king of them all waiting, take now a breath next line the king, ahem, deliberates holding his hope until his fingers grow tired but not too tired as he is the king and must remain strong breath ignore the winter send delegations daily, what are they doing they are looking for the perfect word breath all their crystalline essences forming finally messianic incantation breath the word the one word in which breath all else is contained and a new day more perfect than ever before breath we are waiting we are waiting for the skyscrapers to fall to splinter really shatter and rise exactly 17 feet above the ground and this breath and this breath and this will be heaven.
This poem was written by Noa Danesh, a Hunter College Muse Scholar.