new york march 2010

Pigeons are brown
Street vendors take inventory
Money exchanges hands
Tiffanys across the way
BMW at wall st and pearl
Published poet shares his poems
Pre-order intermission drinks

on turning 25

god i feel hot. i am so sexy, i am sex. i am twenty-five and nothing can touch me, for the next ten years at LEAST. (haha?) this has to be the epitome of existence. this is the most epitomous age. at twenty-five i am still young, so young; my bad habits haven't yet made their mark; my good habits haven't yet proven their worth; i'm still experimenting with both. i am still being carded. being twenty-five is much more than becoming one year older. being twenty-five is a graduation into a new age bracket – the late twenties, 25-30, a fucking era. it has a distinct cultural flavor. in our late twenties we prove ourselves; we shrug, sweep up the accumulation of skills and accomplishments, the string of jobs, of hobbies, of lovers, and leap into an identity, and we're not expected to look back. we are the ones to shape the zeitgeist.