Great Scraps

Oh, great scraps of New York, call me up
Ribbons, letters, tie your knots around my legs
Pistachio shells and shells of eggs

Single rides, coffee lids, signs of life
Lost shoes, mittens, waving in the wind

All the love in the world
Is getting in touch with me
Reaching across unrelenting car horns

I kiss the feet of traffic lights
The yellow is my sun
It tells us to speed up and slow down

We sail a sea of scratch-offs drained of hope
We spread salt on the snow
Make it like a soft pretzel
I’m New York, my dog wears shoes
What are you? What are you?