Journal Entry 8/24/01 nyc

8/24/01
i got out of the apartment today and this is what happened. another poem. perhaps i'll keep writing and call them The Arrival Poems. Maybe they'll keep visiting me, these poems, for these three years. I'll call the book Here Now, since i imagine i'll continually feel like i am arriving as my studies and new york both uncover more and more. Here's today's.

Central Park

That squeak that sneakers make
is short-screeching with
"blats" of basketballs
and the incomprehensible
language of men on the court,
voices captured in a canopy of trees.
A breeze blows through them,
rustling leaves, weaving
between slick shoulders.
Feet pound concrete,
voices rise, "You ain't shit!"
Ball stops.
But the beauty of this
place persists.
Sun slants through effortless green
an oasis in a wider perimeter
of more concrete
more pacing feet
and buildings in rows like cornfields.