Is there anything colder
Than winter
In the city
In the winter
Where it is oh so windy
And the blizzard makes your veins
Into frozen rivers
Oozing of ice and atrophy
Statues littered
With the graffiti of broken swear words
And lovers
Sitting huddled next to
The lake
With the ducks
All in a row
Their broken hearts
From their exes
Existing in the gutters off of Monroe
And
There are houses
Fitted with crooked
Heaters
That make the squatters
Dream of sweaty feet
From the August sun
This is winter
Here in the city
Where the only real way to have fun
Is to ice skate
And then trip over to
That Yelp reviewed coffee place
Where you’ll hold your mug like a prayer
And it even whispers secrets in your ear
This is what love feels like
When it’s cold as all hell outside
And you only want to hide
But you can’t
Because your apartment actually sucks
Due to all of the shitty housing accommodations
No fireplace
Just the lingering smell of rat poison
Because it’s winter here in this shady city
Where nuns get cigarettes for free
And that old Jewish lady
Just swore at you
In a language you were too lazy to learn
In grade 3
And even though it’s winter in this cold, cold city
You still get hot
Because your cheap sweater
Is so itchy
But you love it here
Somehow, someway
Even though you constantly get glared at
On the subway
And everyone is complaining
About the local Brie
Not being as good as the one in the cooler French city
So pack your bags
Or hitch a ride
It’s winter and you may not be able to feel your toes
But Goddamit
You still have to see the Empire State Building
And you still have to wander the freezing streets
To see everyone falling in and out of love,
Or out of their company car
Because they got
Way too hammered at the downtown bar
So don’t worry!
Ugly tourist
From the little city
This is winter
And you can cover
Your fat face for free
With an even itchier matching beanie
And you won’t ever have to worry
About what you said awkwardly
To that hot guy
Who mistook you for a friend who borrowed a fuck ton of his money
to buy cocaine and a little “action”
This is the fucking city
And in Winter
No one cares
Because they’re just as ugly
And they’re just as freezing
And they don’t want to do anything
But cuddle the one they call lover
And wander the bookshelves in conquest
Of the next great philosopher
If I were you, ugly tourist,
I’d pack my bag
And head there immediately
And you might get lucky
And see some cool shit for free
Like the homeless druggie
Hawking a loogie
This is winter in the city, baby
Didn’t you hear?
Ain’t nothing for free
Except your hope and your eventual misery
I love my crusty assed, overly grumpy
Entirely frigid
Big city
Because I don’t have to be anyone
Except for me
And I will love that
Into eternity.
Goodbye good ol’ southern hospitality
Instead prepare yourself
To get berated
For talking to that bum
And anyway
Even if you have no money after
You can still survive off of the city nightlife
Who said 3 martinis were for weenies?
And you’ll finally figure out why most people consider this place hell
So why oh, oh why
Does winter in the city
Feel so….home-y
I love you troubled city
Because you are me
Hazy one day
And fucking feral the next
What a dream
What a dream
To be part of something major
At last!
Rejoice ugly tourist
Because finally no one cares about
Your fat ass
And everyone here is just as desperate
To be
A part of something big someday
That’s the only real reason
To put up with the last place
That anyone with any sanity
Would choose
I’m telling you,
Try winter in the city
And see if you don’t go a little crazy
See if you don’t go a little loony
See if you don’t over romanticize
Everything BUT the beauty of this city
That you will get right
Because everyone would love to visit
Before they die
Just to say they saw buildings
That hang like glass mansions
In the night sky
And maybe if they’re lucky
They’ll see a shooting star
Flying by
And maybe if they’re even luckier
They might even kiss a cute guy
Or girl
Or whatever they’re into
Because winter in this city is anything but judgy
It just is
And it always will be
I hope for your sake
Ugly tourist
You take all of the pictures
You kiss all of the pigeons
(Theoretically speaking)
Because you’ll never be as free as you are
When you get lost
And are too scared of everyone to ask for directions
So come with me
And we can get lucky together
We might even make the Sunday paper
“Two idiot tourists, moon the Catholic masses, because they were high as hell and drunk off their asses.”