Resident Artist 2, No.2: The City’s Fickle Dreams
She wants to take me to the fortune teller on Coney Island
Not the one from “Big”
but the one from “Requiem for a Dream”
I proposed to come out and crash on her couch for a couple nights.
I wound up, sleeping in the bed with her dreams.
I wanted to walk through Central Park at midnight drinking coffee
Instead we got drunk at White Horse Tavern,
where our favorite wordsmiths gathered, creating the stories we envy.
I simply wanted to ride the subway,
and when we did, I saw the softness in her eyes, wanting only me,
knowing there was nothing simple behind it.
I wanted to watch the sunrise over the Atlantic,
we watched the sun set infinite times between valleys of skyscrapers.
Finally allowing the dark of night to take over.
I wanted to read poetry at The Bowery,
where we then watched a jazz trio play behind the performers.
We witnessed a beautiful display of someone swearing he is not in love.
I wanted to see the Eastern Sea board
She showed me Coney Island
where we watched a freak show expose the illusion of magic.
She wants to take me to the fortune teller on Coney Island
Not the one from “Big”, where dreams come to a mature moral ending
but the one from “Requiem for a Dream” where delusional lusts come to a crashing halt.
Copyright © 2016 by David Arthur
I love the sad desire behind it all. The juxtaposition of his imagination and hers creates a lackluster experience. Yet both parties are still enjoying it for what it is…
This is excellent in all the ways Emma described above… the moment on the subway, beautiful.