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It was time to visit the big city. Sure, the city I live in is bigger; but that’s not important. New York is the BIG CITY...it’s certainly taller than Los Angeles. Jumping off half of the things in Manhattan is a lot more impressive than jumping off all of the things in L.A.

There’s a lot to be said for compacting everything onto an island. Feel free to say any of those things. I’m not going to say them for you. Opinions are expensive in these parts. Send me a dollar, and I’ll tell you what I think. I like Islands.

Brooklyn is not an Island. There is fabulous Mexican food there. The kind of food you wouldn’t find on an island. The kind of food I wouldn’t expect to find east of Arizona. When Shira told me she was taking me to Mexican food in Brooklyn, I told her that I come from the LAND of Mexican Food and laughed heartily. She was right though...right to take me there. It was Mexican food. It was good Mexican food. I’ve never been to Arizona.

So meet my trip to New York City. What is it that someone said to me after publishing Feeding Holy Cats? I think it was something like “Oh you with your books about the places you’ve been.” It’s true. New York is a place, and I have been there, and this book is all poems that I wrote there, except for the last two which I wrote in New Jersey, and the first few which I wrote on the way there. But the rest of them in the middle...oh yes, those were written in New York City. I found nothing unusual about the size of gravity revealing fruit.

March 2001

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A Man With No Teeth Serves Us Breakfast | I'd Like to Bake Your Goods | Stolen Mummies | Brendan Constantine is My Kind of Town
Up Liberty's Skirt | Feeding Holy Cats | Mowing Fargo
| I'm a Jew, Are You? | Lizard King of the Laundromat | I Am My Own Orange County
Paris: It's The Cheese
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