The City is too Loud

The bus driver inside of his 25 foot protective sheath, catches attitude about something the guy in the car in front of him is doing, so he lets out a loud long honk. He hardly hears it, but I'm reeling. Why is this city so loud? And noise is not the only way that it is... Loud, remember the adjective way back when, your grandma used to use it: to denote brightly colored, different, attention grabbing. New York is loud cause like the bus driver, its got attitude. People here don't shy away from the splatter paint facts of their experience. Instead, they tell you about what it is like to be a sex worker. Librarians ask you if you know where they can get crystal meth, I become unsure if they're a narc or I am. Am I a cop?

The stories, I hear about Dominatrix/Lawyers, stiltwalking cat on acid experts, givers, healers media activists, political experts, live from the front of greedy landlord/developer wars, and back from real wars. Iraq, Darfour, Katrina, Guantanamo bay. There are myriad stories and this city is too loud for me to hear all of them together rising to make dim the smoglight, rising above the din of the lime light and the wine light. I hear the attitude of naked, tattooed, human art, it helps me to do something, get live. My ears hurt, I speak quietly cause I dislike noise, but the words are poison when the woman refrains from her speech.