brooklyn aint no planet : for that girl on pluto
(photo by kwesi abbensetts)
brooklyn ain't no planet
but if you stand on a rooftop where nostrand and lafayette kiss you can connect dots you never knew were there
call them constellations if you want
on a sound night you can see to the bronx and see real constellations made in steel doors if that door was never replaced
and this aint no real girl
she sleeps on pluto on my pillow on rocks so she's never comfortable
she's destined to be my demise
my left leg's clot that i really got from a great great
i've gotten as far as 1812 but still no tribe
you look like you got something to tell me
you smell like you have something to give me
something you wore that skirt for
something you didn't press your hair for
naturally you say something about me not being ready
but i've forgotten how to ride bikes
they've lied or my memory is fucked up beyond repair
and that flat tire you showed up with means we should stay in and be counterrevolutionary
remove that dress fake girl
remove that other shoulder
keep on those boots
avoid those rocks and find comfort on this mattress
this aint new york
this is brooklyn
this is that brooklyn poem i promised to always write you
just from 93 million miles away
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