Friday, January 13, 2012
I have been punched in the face
my nose exploded in a torrent of
More than once
I have fallen off a scaffold and had my hand lacerated to the tendon
As it went through a stained glass window
There’s nothing passive about bleeding or blood
It is an active part of life.
The poet once said, “New York seduced me”
She got that right.
One night I rented a room in the Chelsea Hotel
It cost 65 dollars. I left a poem in a bottom drawer
With a copy of SCREW magazine
And another one on the bed.
I wanted to be a great poet, I got hooked
On New York instead.
It wasn’t hard; she gives you what you like
And I have a
High tolerance for pain
And a low resistance to pleasure
So I still wander these streets
of a million doors
and a million floors
and 8 million stores
But the New York I knew is in the rear view
The City has changed and I walk
like a ghost among her ruins
looking for Robert Mapplethorpe, Keith Haring, Patti Smith
and John Lennon.
And all that’s real
Is the taste of blood
Inside my mouth.
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Last year I went back to the old neighborhood, camera in hand, to do a photo essay of how the place looks now. I was also in the last pages of composing my novel and used these images, and more like them, to propel me to the finish line. Here's a glimpse at how the place looks today. These shots include the sheltered doorway of the Bridge Tavern, where Jack Simms ducks out of the rain while Mary Jimenez performs at the protest rally across the street in Elm Park.
Keep up with the blog for more photos of Port Richmond and locations in and around which have provided inspiration for scenes in the novel. You can't miss the ever present image of the iconic Bayonne Bridge, the dome of which features prominently in Jack Simms' history with his home town.
I am continuing to send the manuscript out to agents with the goal of landing a publisher in 2012.