Words by Timothy - 2. New York, I'm Going...

New York, I am going, to love you

I am leaving these pavements for yours

To wear holes in my shoes and smell the sweat

That runs from your curbs your architecture

I am going to be one of the numberless lovers

To look around and up at your sharp chin

Within your starless night where the light fades fairytales

I am going to chalk my own body’s outline on your parks central point

Feel the cannibal shudder of your resources

Tear at the leaves and cigar ends of your business district

Until the summer window has fogged

Until I thicken body’s warmth with coffee and leather jacket

I am going to punch your hardened face

To see if you still bleed

To see if I can get past the dealerships and developments

I am going to feel your groin

To see if you still grow hard

To see if you can still thrust forward with the enthusiasm of nature

New York, I am leaving, to love you

To eat whatever it is you put before me

To wince at the cane that you use to raise your children

The children who change the world as often as their minds

Who speak the languages of Babel and breathe the air with scarred lungs

I want to lose my face amongst theirs

To lose my identity down the back of seat in a yellow taxi

I will fall in love in your cafes

Get fucked against the wall in your club toilets

Get held up by an immigrant by knifepoint

I will feel his erection against me as he takes my last dollar

I will tell him I love him

I will write on the seat of a subway train

‘I love you, the immigrant who mugged me…’

New York, I’m going to love you.

The insane situation of your state

The geraniums that grow from high hanging pots

Over blessed children who have historic minds

The staircases, the stoops, the climbing cats that scream

Your pink handshake of accent

Your naked vision of beauty down by the quarry

It’s a lust that is betrayed by love

A love that will last as long we do

Should I walk to you, should I fly to you?

Should I marry my thoughts with your actions and create days of new heroes?

Your children, your lovers, your victims

Here is the wine salutation

Here is the holy salvation

New York, you will be mine, and I am going, going to love you

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