Boston was like...

my yin and i have arrived in North Carolina and find ourselves staring out at the expanse of the Blue Ridge Mountains from a bedroom slightly larger than our apartment. the trip up was eventful, the layover in Atlanta was inspirational, and i have much to say about both these things. but this is beside the point.

the point is that my latent obsessive compulsive tendencies require that i take tasks to completion; and therefore, as part of my annual homage to New England, i offer the final installment of things i've said before (with pictures). and so...

Boston was like:

waiting for the other shoe to drop

waiting for the train to stop

transfers from green to orange and
ice cream parlor experiments

flirting in art galleries

trying to impress Stephanie Schneider

with out of print paperbacks

and vegetarian meals in Chinatown.

cannoli and cappuccino with

a handful of Hanover holdovers
sandwiched between the sandwich shops

guided through the North End by
the social security Irish of Arch Street

and whispering confessions to St. Anthony

about where the bodies are buried.

thronging south

on Newbury Street in chic boutiques



and sliding

velvet walls

f
a
l
l
i
n
g

in love with girls on sofas,
long talks with Mardou in the park

dodging weddings and avoiding
the marbled gaze in the courtyard shade of the library

l o n g i n g

for my pen.