china town.

its how it has always been
the women on the edge of the alley
peering thru blind eyes
the language is sharp and to the point
the smells remain the same
dried fish
plum sauce
frying rice in a thickening of oil
the children are dancing on the street in dirty feet
there is no room for cars
but they come anyways
equipped with horns and heavy exhaust
mostly yellow
carrying people from upper east side
commuters heading south
its how it has always been
although changed
a pot bellied man carrying a wheelbarrow
to lighten a load his shoulders are to old and weary to take weight to
a girl thin skinned and hazel eyed watches me watch her
then looks down towards wobbly knees
i don’t know why ive come here today
i walked out the door of my apartment without direction or cause
purposeful with my misunderstandings of this city
i walk thru realms of others indulgences
i want to taste the thickening of the dried pigs ear
but do not
the rules i concern myself with
they are how they’ve always have been
i do not buy used underwear
i do not wear the color pink
i do not have sex without love
i do not tempt myself with drying pigs ears
they are for the dogs
where do these places of do not carry thru
from a grandmother who has never indulged in the pleasures of sex before marriage
a lover with fear lingering in the eyes
my second grade teacher who told me God was looking at me from above
watching me
retracing me
memorizing me
my lines
of thoughts and worldly imperatives
its how its always been
and its how it will always be they say
but i will disagree this time
i will release a bitten tongue
i will pull anothers underwear underneath my dress
up against my fleshy nakedness
i will wear fuchsia
hot pink
pale pink
blush pink
peachy pink
pink pink
all backwards and inside out
i will take you up five flights of stairs and lay you long on my orange bed
and fuck you
deep into me
i will taste those drying ears
suckle them like i would suckle you
and then throw you to the dogs
because this is not of me
because this is not how its always been
because something has to change
change from within
we hold on to patterns and dates and times and schedules and political reasoning
and why we love
what we love
and who we love
and where we love
and what is love?
without question
we live our days
we habit our ways
i don’t know why i have come here today
the hot humidness sticking to me
the air conditioners leak from above giving me one taste of what coolness feels like to the skin
i would have not let it touch me with gratitude coming from where i came from
but here
i will take all the un pleasurable with pleasure