Thursday, December 28, 2017


Prewar, floor to ceiling iron heat pipes tap-tap hot air rising from basement to sixth floor in this hundred-plus year old building and throughout the apartment I've occupied since 1969.

A cadmium-battery driven clock click-clacks as it's second hand crosses a brown spotted cow and an English sheep, then a hefty pig in a meadow printed on it's face marked "The Kent, Greenwood, London", unaware of the irony of hanging on a plaster and lathe wall in Manhattan instead of the butcher shoppe it was designed to advertise.

Grey daylight has broken through the dark. We are in between Christmas and the New Year. Many tenants are away for the week and it's not as noisy in my neighborhood either. Discarded fir trees have begun appearing curbside. Bitter Winter has set in with a seriousness that weather is good at. No snow here but plenty elsewhere.

Orders to pick up homeless multitudes and 'escort' them to shelters most would rather avoid have been issued from the official chambers of our City Government. I have slept in two hour stretches through the night in a warm bed, returning to it often today as I will soon again.


Nancy said...

Your words paint a picture here Michelle. xo

Mo Crow said...


Tina Zaffiro said...

Your words transport ... I am with you

jude said...

I'm here with you.