 |
| Looked like this kid |
The key to making the New York City street face is in the
eyes: narrowed and crossed slightly to the center to make everyone, even people
coming straight at you, be seen only in your periphery. You must appear to
be seeing everything but watching no one. Eye contact is either invitation or
accusation. Two boys playfully tussle in the sun and grass and I falter. My
face softens towards them for only a moment. “Excuse me miss, you ever had sex
outside? Would you do it with me?” My answer is a simple lip twitch and
furrowed brow. Continuing on the path, I don’t look up from the gravel
until I can shake the giggle out of my eyes.
1 comment:
One can but wonder with which wings of verse might thy ladyship's vignette have fluttered had it been about equestrian experiences about the Gargantuan Apple's green open spaces in the shadow of Lady Liberty's free flowing tresses...
& whether these randy hay tumbling mule headed Nick Bottoms, & frolicking Pucks shrewd & knavishly spritely in their twisted wandering half minds;
would be as crass as thus, in the presence of a veritable midsummer Knight's nightmare, rendering their gobs gaping gulfs gulping in petrified awe as they'd no doubt grovel & scuttle from a rather fetching centaur raring up from their vantage point rather than what may have been to their levitating minds but a slap on the wrist of a let-off from a giggling lady Godiva ;-)
Post a Comment