Friday, October 29, 2010

The One With New York City Day Three.

Dear Lover,

I bought a hat.
In a warehouse with rows upon rows of felt fedoras.
And Sunday bonnets.
And I wore it on the subway.
Where an old man tipped his to mine.
Told me he once knew a girl...
And then I wore it in a cab.
Where the driver - an old English professor - was lonely in the rearview mirror.
So I told him to take me to his favorite pizza place in the city.
And bought us a couple of slices.
As we gobbled them up.
We laughed at the drunk girls with short skirts in the cold.
And cursed the other drivers who cut us off, making the stretched cheese break, and splat against our chins.
And told each other the meanings of our names.


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