the tumult of the laundry list of fairs
and the debacle of the Whitney is closing…
i've been in my studio. working.
this year was not my year
for $19 glasses of champagne.
i've been in my studio. working…
i have, however, spent time with thoughts
of SoHo, the SoHo of decades ago,
climbing white painted stairs
for red wine in plastic cups,
later to stagger into clubs and bars
with our fill of art, primed
for heavier sport…
the bouncers liked me
because i could finish what i started…
the same cobblestones
and the same majestic
buildings still exist,
but the glass walled real estate
bordering the sidewalks
is not the same.
and there are places i remember
that are now only that...