It’s a wonderful day

in Eraserhood

albeit nippy & windy

but Love City triumphs over all.


I think of David Lynch

& his inspiration—both dark and twisted.

There’s still cobblestone,

decay, abandoned buildings


but now a brewpub or two;

concert venue; murals on the wall.


The fabled Trestle Inn

successfully transitioned

from scary, real life dive bar

to trendy, faux dive bar.


The creep element is fading

Conner Barwin’s hairdo

got ran out of town.


It’d likely traumatize Lynch

all over again.

The forgotten railway tracks

will become a sky park.


The day will come

when empty Yard’s beer cans

outnumber used syringes

littered on the street.


but hopefully we’ll stop

at empty Yard’s cans.


First sighting of 

an empty Dom Perignon—

you know they’ve gone too far.


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Your Devedlopment is Our Demolition

Your condos are unmarked headstones above the mass graves of old dreams, old lives, and memories of joy and struggle. I saw your remorsless glances at the homeless man you displaced. I passed your expensive coffee shop on the way to work that used to be my favorite bodega. I heard entitlement in your voice when you called 311 to complain about the homeless encapment and soup kitchen. I know you see yourself as more human than those of us with darker shades of skin, different accents, and smaller bank accounts. You act as if you are saintly because you think you made the niegborhood nicer but I see that the road the homeless shelter is paved in your good intentions.

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