Day 362: Semantics

It's called a sidewalk
Not a side-dawdle-and-gawk
Or side-text-bumble

Day 361: I can barely keep my hands off of you

Gawping tourist teens
Smell like their prized souvenir
Is Axe Body Spray

It amazes me what people get excited about when they come to New York. These German kids had cleaned out the nearest Duane Reade. Sure, they had the requisite pile of bags from Macy's, but they were most excited about poking each other with nail polish pens.

I think the Axe commercials are so revolting that I am not going to post them here. That should give you a heads up if you go a-Googling.

Day 360: Reading

An old man devours
A Spanish dictionary
As if it's thrilling

Or maybe he just had Fifty Shades of Grey (a.k.a. that book everyone is pretending they are not reading on their Kindles) tucked between the covers.

Day 359: Somewhere in Brooklyn, 6:30 PM

I try not to see
The strange name on your buzzer
The new white curtains

Day 358: Kitchen crisis

Tasty snack prepared
Roach darts across counter top
Appetite destroyed

Day 357: Nightscape

Golden winter moon
Shines on old sloping rooftops
Like a polished coin

Yes, this is how I feel today. Thanks for asking.

A relevant flashback.

Day 356: I'm exaggerating

They will pry the keys
To our rent-stabilized digs
From my cold, dead hands

Our apartment is a glorified closet by non-New York standards, but it's a glorified closet with a separate kitchen, hardwood floors, and a negligible annual rent increase. Okay, so rent-stabilized apartments are pretty common. Don't rain on my parade.