NYC, Day II
There was a homeless man asleep under brown paper bags with scratches all over his face. Self inflicted? Crazy girlfriend? Bum fight?? Could I exchange my sore feet from being a tourist all day for dripping wounds? Soft fluffy pillows for nothing but crumbly piles of brown snow to keep me company? His bags faintly read “Big Brown Bag” and under the twinkling artificial lights of the city and $17 cocktails, he almost seemed part of the old buildings. There forever with no one noticing.
What will he dream about tonight?
…and speaking of, there is such a vast array of hot men in the city. It seems that NYC should win an award for providing such a high quality buffet of handsome, cultured men. Mom and I got lost a few times but I can’t say that I minded one bit asking for direction. To this day in my city, I still meet people that comment on how well I speak the English language which in turn, makes me want to throw a donut at them, haha. Oh sexy English man that I bumped into at the Milk Bar, won’t you feed me bits of pie with your fingers??
Fudge dinges and sexy crack pie,
Your Squishy Monster ^.~