i am in a big city now so
i have acquired a new set of senses
that process faster than cars or iphones
i can see into the future
sometimes
and have made an indelible connection
between the smell of garbage
and the shapes of graffiti
my furniture is waiting in the Rural Wing
but i don't need a bed to know
my fingertips
my calves
my stray eyelashes
are at home here
amongst the dead pigeons
the dog parks full of chewed sticks
amongst the hipster throngs
their cumbersome sidebags
and the bike tires
soaked in old gum and oil spill
i don't need to know you
to know
i will
someday
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