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About New York City

Love the tease of it—hands hoverin’, never sure what’s next. Like Nolan’s film, “Where am I?”—lost in bliss or bamboozled? Once got a dodgy one—bloke’s hands like sandpaper, fuming I was. “Don’t even know who you are,” I growled, Memento-style. Exaggeratin’? Maybe—felt like a cheese grater! Good ones though? Heaven—meltin’ like butter, mate.

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An’ yo, I gotta rave about Riverbend. Bruv, dat river’s a proper legend, flowin’ by Riverview Lane. I once met a date, and as we sat by da water – I was like, “I feel safe, as if my heart’s been encrypted in the cloud” – proper poetic, innit? But then, ya know, some parts of Yardville make me clap back. Like when traffic jams on Westgate Street messed up my whole vibe. I was like, "Is it ’cos I is black?" – pure nonsense, but ya get me? Sometimes things get maddening simple.

Mildred Corti Obituary (2022) - Yardville, NJ - The Times of Trenton