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Periaktoi Writing Post

Volume 53
Issue 2

Single Visual Art Post

  • Poetry
NYC Ver. 01/Gen 2000
Rose Dallimore


NYC Ver. 01/Gen 2000

most homes never begin and never end

but mine rose each day to die again

the loneliest fate that everyone shares

to have their own city that would not dare

to keep on track, to stay the same

to deign itself to the brutal shame

of being dependable, of being unwise,

except when changing with a surprise

to teach you a lesson, to make you weep

to give you a tale to tell and to keep,

to build your heart and break your mind,

to leave whoever you were yesterday behind

because most homes remain still in time and in space

but mine tore itself down, history erased—

but memory fickle and twisted, absurd,

leaves the people I saw and the songs that I heard

in the version of the city I keep in my soul,

placed high on the shelf, maintained and whole

and your new york is different, exciting, unkind,

the saddest, most sacred place we can find.