If I'd Gone To New York

If I'd gone to New York I would have ridden the subway
and felt the soft heat of a stranger's breath
on the back of my neck.

I would have eaten ethnic food every day
and been lost in crowds,
swept job to job
and moved with the tides of traffic.

If I'd gone to New York
I would have sharpened into hard edges
rather than these soft ones
that only start projects,
never completing them
because the process is so freakin' fun.

I would have seen clearly, spoken harshly, and not broken
when loss hit.
I would have seen flowers
in the cracks of the sidewalk
rather than vanity plates
on the freeways.

I would have been cold but strong
and successful and hard.

If I'd gone to New York I would not have heard your voice last night.
It would have taken me longer to get to the
what-ifs.

If I'd gone to New York I wouldn't have gotten out of bed
just now
to write this vision of what might have been.

I wish I'd gone.
I'm glad I'm here.