New Poetry from Stacey Balkun...

Unlearning How To Walk Through New York City


I pull the rush from my steps like weeds, end

this relentless curiosity that

sprouts from old sidewalk cracks, begs for answers

scaffolding and alleys cannot offer.


My legs are ready to journey, to leave

this urban life behind and settle down

south, ready to set down the nightly wail

of sirens for floating songs of bullfrogs.


I want to see trees take over, reclaim

their own lost wood, vines jointed like fingers

that spread across burnt shingles, vines pulsing

like arteries and veins, always growing.


Down new streets I will step without tripping

mosey slow, heart never skipping a beat.

.....Stacey Balkun, Piscataway then, New Orleans now, North Carolina next

Each of us who is frequent traveller to New York City has what I call the "city walk," the extremely fast, purposeful stride of a person who means business and who has an actual destination.  I suppose this is a walk to be unlearned, especially when it becomes a metaphor for one's orientation to life in general.  Weeds and rushes.  Good stuff.

See you at the Newark Dodgefest 2010!

Keep writing,

Maureen