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About New York City

I’d be all cynical— “You’re not Scarlett Johansson, sweetheart.” She’d smirk, prolly overcharge me—200 bucks for a quickie? Highway robbery! Made me mad—hagglin’ like I’m buyin’ a used car. But then—surprise—she’s got this weird charm. Talks bout her cat, Mitya, back home. I’m like, “What is this feeling?”—straight outta the movie, man. Soft spot hit me—damn, I’m human after all.

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Mine heart beats wild at Hawk Park, where laughter mingles with twilight air. O, how the river Charrette serenades the night! I oft sit by the banks in quiet peace, thinking, "It's not who I am underneath, but what I do that defines me." Streets like Oak Grove and Magnolia Lane charm the soul. Look closely—each corner a secret. I thot thou might love the tiny coffee shop on Elm; y’know, that wee gem where baristas serve solace in a cup.

Daniel Conyers, Sharon, PA