I must not forget

that I came home 

just to write my daily words

before heading to the Whitney

to sing a song to a stranger

and donate one of my Loki prints

to another stranger.

So now I have to write

only sixty more words.

Let’s see.

I could tell you that 

in my subway car today there 

was an Italian American policeman

with a belly à la Homer Simpson.

Or that my neighbors 

say hello pretty lady

or hello mama

when I meet them in the elevator.

Only the men of course.

It’s okay to have nothing to say.