I’ve seen some odd things lately: an over-the-hill, pot-bellied, balding white guy in black leather (head to toe); a singing, slumping, hairy-chested transvestite in a sequined halter-top; a trio of reserved Jehovah’s Witnesses from San Diego.
I hesitate with clichés. Sure that’s New York, sure that’s the subway...I know the story. Come to “I (HEART) NYC” and see the world.
The truth is, I see the world in flashes. Two am glimpses on the Q train…a turn left onto Utica Avenue…an hour-long wait at the 106 and Broadway post office.
I don’t really get it.
Mom told me she would take care of things, honey. She always does…She and the fam.
God blessed me. He put me in her womb.
It’s warm there.
It’s small there.
It’s my there.
