After a Yankee game last month, a few buddies and myself adventured into the village for some drinking, pizza, and good times. Compliments to Uber for hooking it up with a ride across Manhattan. Upon arrival, we came across a dollar slice place called Percy’s Pizza located on Bleecker Street. If you know a thing or two about dollar slice places in NYC, they are usually run down and sketchy. Percy’s was not. Very clean and brick-walled counter serve, had a Little Italy feel to it. Without saying a word, we walked in and this little spanish guy goes “HOW MANY?” I first picked up one to see if it was worth a second. And for a dollar slice it was well worth over a dollar! Probably one of the best dollar slice spots I have ever been to. Now I know the photo is a tad deceiving, but trust me it is worth it.
However… my friends and I ventured back an hour later and decided to get a pie. $8 is worth a pie. The guy wanted to charge us $12! Now I’m no mathematician but there are eight slices to a pie and at a dollar a piece how are they selling pies at $12?! Nonetheless, I just ordered 8 SEPARATE slices *puts on cool dude shades*.
My little sister asked why I was no longer nice I had to admit I’ve lost the space within awoke to the impossibility a hunter and healer wandering thru capitalism.
No longer wearing the smile she needs for security I can’t tell her what it means to be a femme fatale because she’s buried in suburbia hungry for children unprovoked by the horrors of the world unable to understand that I no longer long to smile I want revenge for the people who’s problems are created by the few controlling the world for my neighbor Judy struggling to raise her children fully aware her children are growing up in a dying land with no where to run to still she rises up every day and laughs and loves and tries her damnest to give them everything she can grasp the few creating problems so their stagnate bank accounts can continue growing every dollar they acquire enslaves another - person, animal, tree, living thing trying to breath - to the will of the corporation corporations claim to be people but I’ve never fucked one literally rimmed a corporation as I fought off a rat infested room and had to tell my lover, sorry, gimme a second as I beat a rat with a broom.
The other night I skinny dipped beneath the moon screamed to the waves I’m sorry I haven’t loved you more sorry my species is polluting every molecule comprising the sea sorry I’ve not given myself over sooner to the one who’s nourished all life visions of the first creatures crawling out of the water formed as the waves beat me into baptismal and then the waves calmed and I understood even the ocean sighs and laments death.
The ocean mother to an unfathomable plethora of creatures caving glaciers expand her reach unless another star forms a frozen tomb unbalanced my point of view eclipsed the constellations within my galaxy fade one by one and then I feel yr tongue pushing across the roof of my mouth into my throat there is love in yr saliva squeeze hands as the sun implodes and the void passes thru us maybe forever maybe just a thousand years.
Whoever said things will work out didn’t live in nyc in 2014 wasn’t flooded by the images bleeding through the Internet from gaza the ‘it gets better’ campaign forgot about all the ones buried choices and culture hasn’t felt the famine the hunger is real it’s not fed by the internet.
As I strolled thru Washington Square park a piece of me wanted to stop and smell the flowers but then I remembered I ain’t got no time for that like literally working for a slave wage so I might wander the streets late at night and pull food from garbage bags but I did call out to the lavender and daisies and lambs ear and thyme “yr the future, the future”….