I now welcome gaslighting 
Like maple stencils on 
patio furniture 

The furniture
I will fight rich kids for
with an invisible bark

Punch vulgar blood 
back into my throat with
panic attack pauses  

Down cocktails worth more than 
my father’s hourly wage 

Wipe the guilt off my face 
with the hubris of a placating 
eucalyptus oil soaked towel 
smelling of bastardized yoga 
on Schermerhorn 

Yes
I have come a long way
but 

           not long enough to be
           nestled in resting comfort 
           nor out from under thumb of threat

Yesterday, I fell into 
a chandelier-lit avant garde 
of pompous ditch
and stuck out like a sore
disco ball folks loved to jostle

There is a proverb for my people that goes, 
You don’t need a cannon to kill a mosquito 

but every time my cocktails 
twirl in an infinity sign of spillage 
my heart explodes 
a springing confetti of dollar bills 


Yes
I have come a long way 
But

           the skyline still tastes 
           like effervescence
           in a bottle of Dom Perignon 
           Which is to say, I will die in envisioning
           this city’s fantastical splendor 

Out of the moving window, 
rolling bits of a splattered New York 
before the train reaches 
Smith-Ninth from Bergen
sets me ablaze 
in spellbinding elation
only every time 

As a boy
poor and 
one of ten siblings as he was, 
My father did not drink water for hours 
after eating a good meal 
so the taste lingered in his mouth
for as long as his body could bear to savor it
 
Taking miniscule sips of any cocktail
all I ever smell is my Abba