Brooklyn Boils Over
We just come back from a walk to Prospect Park.
I'm so hot that when I came back home and went to the bathroom my ass stuck to the seat.
The asphalt is actually steaming and every few blocks or so this weird funky odor rises out of the sewers.
Window boxes are in full bloom, though. Bright splashes of color planted in any patch of dirt.
Still, I saw: several people running; several more biking; one man refinishing his front door; dozens working on their cars on Union St. by the lovely Gowanus.
And there was the guy a block from the park who'd bought a bunch of waters and was selling them to the people who were walking or biking past. He looked like a kind of god when I came up over that one hill, his left arm raised for just a second, three bottles glistening in the sun before he drew it down to meet his right.
We just come back from a walk to Prospect Park.
I'm so hot that when I came back home and went to the bathroom my ass stuck to the seat.
The asphalt is actually steaming and every few blocks or so this weird funky odor rises out of the sewers.
Window boxes are in full bloom, though. Bright splashes of color planted in any patch of dirt.
Still, I saw: several people running; several more biking; one man refinishing his front door; dozens working on their cars on Union St. by the lovely Gowanus.
And there was the guy a block from the park who'd bought a bunch of waters and was selling them to the people who were walking or biking past. He looked like a kind of god when I came up over that one hill, his left arm raised for just a second, three bottles glistening in the sun before he drew it down to meet his right.
Tags:
posted by Minerva Jane at
6:09 PM
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
Subscribe to Post Comments [Atom]
<< Home