I never wanted to visit New York

solander leaf prints par-tunneled
were espaliered on a favored garret
drinking in back compartment
leaves racketing up a forage
transgressing the heart of Cat Power
for lilies and nuclear plant station acacia.
if this is love there will not be leftovers
for radio matches on the ceiling
or peeling starch gripped doors that couldn’t find key grips
along the sonic sailed waves.
Hania Rani left her home and surprised everyone.
this was never a home to begin with.
alone. Caveat distance. Westminster pivot foregrip pouring familiar piaffe.
Lou Reed raised me to think New York had a delicate diligent soulless authenticity.
I never wanted to visit New York.