As I was sweating this morning in the shower, I realized that I was having a similar frustration with New York as I did this winter, except opposite with the temperature scale.
Due to the fact that it is too hot to type full thoughts without sweating all over the keyboard, I’ve decided to write my feelings a la free verse poetry:
I’m jealous beyond words.
No AC in Harlem.
Come on Little Window Unit…
I think I can I think I can
Damn you morning sun.
The Summer of Air-Dryed Hair
Freezing in the Over-AC’d office
Hoochie Shirts Open (more than usual)
Baked Trash on the Sidewalk for Lunch
My favorite smell.
Come on train. Get here faster.
Stop the sweating.
Sweet homeless man, Sweet commuter, Sweet AC in the subway car.
Summer nights my sweet relief.
We don’t run and hide. We deal with it. We live in it.
It’s so damn hot in New York.