I Speak of the City: Jayne Cortez

I Am New York City

i am new york city
here is my brain of hot sauce
my tobacco teeth my
      mattress of bedbug tongue
legs apart hand on chin
      war on the roof insults
pointed fingers pushcarts
      my contraceptives all

look at my pelvis blushing

i am new york city of blood
police and fried pies
      i rub my docks red with grenadine
and jelly madness in a flow of tokay
my huge skull of pigeons
my seance of peeping toms
my plaited ovaries excuse me
this is my grime my thigh of
steelspoons and toothpicks
      i imitate no one

i am new york city
of the brown spit and soft tomatoes
      give me my confetti of flesh
my marquee of false nipples
      my sideshow of open beaks
in my nose of soot
      in my ox bled eyes
in my ear of saturday night specials

i eat ha ha hee hee and ho ho

i am new york city
      my shoes are incognito
cadavers grow from my goatee
      look i sparkle with shit with wishbones
my nickname is glue-me

Take my face of stink bombs
my star spangle banner of hot dogs
take my beer-can junta
my reptilian ass of footprints
and approach me through life
approach me through death
approach me through my widows peak
through my split ends my asthmatic laugh
approach me through my wash rag
half ankle half elbow
massage me with your camphor tears
salute the patina and concrete
of my rat tail wig
face up face down
piss into the bite of our handshake

i am new york city
      my skillet-head friend
my fat-bellied comrade
            break wind with me.

© Jayne Cortez

Leave a comment

Leave a comment

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.