New York, New York

The corner market was drenched
in colorful tulips like soft jazz
for the eyes. Early mornings.
6am cool. Cheap umbrellas for
sale on the street when it rained.
Bagel and coffee. Cream. A little
sugar, sugar. Some leg. I grabbed
some tulips, and Mr. Marcone
shouted, “YELL-O, young lady!”
This was my favorite New York.

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