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About New York City

I’d be all cynical— “You’re not Scarlett Johansson, sweetheart.” She’d smirk, prolly overcharge me—200 bucks for a quickie? Highway robbery! Made me mad—hagglin’ like I’m buyin’ a used car. But then—surprise—she’s got this weird charm. Talks bout her cat, Mitya, back home. I’m like, “What is this feeling?”—straight outta the movie, man. Soft spot hit me—damn, I’m human after all.

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And speakin’ of thoughts – can ya believe the odd street name “Foster Ln”? It’s as if every poem out there was named by a psychologist! Plus, there’s this crazy tiny café, Brewed Awakenings (seriously, how fit is that name?), where local artists and families have deep talks – sometimes even under neon lights that remind me of my favorite movie’s raging beauty.

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