ugly beautiful city

losing yourself is sort of difficult when a city knows you by name. often times, when i feel the need to disappear on some afternoon, i bring myself to a place where nobody ever seems to know (much less see) me. despite endless patrols of custodial workers, it's perpetually filthy and dim. a sort of invisible indoor pollution seems to fill the spaces between moving bodies. i never catch eyes, or faces really. just hoops, studs, chains, cheap tattoos of stars and roses. just wigs, weaves, cornrows, caps. just gold teeth, missing teeth, sharp teeth. just sweatpants, jeans, sometimes suits (with cases and always hurrying, naturally). boys whistle and drawl come-ons, loudly, to no female in particular. girls shout at each other, or back at whichever boys, through stands and down staircases and into stores. the bums rest, the elderly shuffle and all over the place, there are babies. babies in bellies and in strollers and in the skinny arms of young mothers who can barely hold them up. at once there is always a medley of cash register chimes and cellphone clamor and rolling wheels and clicking heels and muddy versions of english or other languages altogether. then some soft rock ballad, out of place and stubbornly droning on over all of it. there are stands of flowers. limp and vivid bouquets that nobody ever seems to buy. there are greasy food stands, too, where teenage boys pay with hundred dollar bills, evidently proud of what they did to obtain them. i lose myself here among the worn and the browbeaten and the unashamed. but i'm not one of them, no matter how dejected i feel. down below there are trains to move me away from the colorful, sad mosaic tiles and fluorescent lights and the scent of dirty mops. standing on the platform at the end of these days, it always occurs to me how goddamn lucky i am.

the sky is truly incredible in autumn out over the buildings, the trees, our ugly beautiful city.

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