By Laura Elizabeth Nelson
O New York, my mistress, my summer lover
How many times must we say
Farewell?
You take my hand, pull me into your blistered masses
You ask me to remove my shoes
And I do
I follow you
I walk along in bare feet across tapestries woven
In blood in dreams in ambition and broken glass
My own trails the streets
You absorb me
O New York, my child, my winter’s desert
Do you miss me when I am elsewhere?
When I am thinking green thoughts,
Crisp enough for birds to perch on their vibrant edges
You are a chill wind sending the birds away from me
O you sleepless city, you bitch, my spring fever
I watch you rise from the morning haze
All spires and plot points
You reach for me across the hours
I feel your grungy palm, smooth, chameleon
My body turns, my shoulder the pivot
Sink into the ocean, love
Fall down
Drown
Do it
For me, for humanity
And please
Don’t forget to take us with you
!["flashmemoirelizabethnelson"]("https://writeanglesblog.files.wordpress.com/2016/09/flashmemoirelizabethnelson.jpg")
Elizabeth Nelson is a multidisciplinary artist, writer, theatre director, and communications professional working in New York and the Berkshires. Graphic designer: SDC Journal. Published: FUGUE, A TEN-MINUTE PLAY (Black Box Press), THE GOING PRICE (Stage Rights). Elizabeth is a playwright with the Playwright Mentoring Project of Barrington Stage Company.
Elizabeth Nelson is a multidisciplinary artist, writer, theatre director, and communications professional working in New York and the Berkshires. Graphic designer: SDC Journal. Published: FUGUE, A TEN-MINUTE PLAY (Black Box Press), THE GOING PRICE (Stage Rights). Elizabeth is a playwright with the Playwright Mentoring Project of Barrington Stage Company.