from Big Brown Bag
My Bloomingdale’s bag was flapping in the wind like a weapon.
I didn’t want to wait for traffic so I just walked right in.
Sometimes when I’m walking in the woods I think about Bloomingdale’s.
And I get weak in the knees.
Sometimes when I’m on airplanes I feel the whole building vibrating deep in my body like a guitar string.
They say that Bloomingdale’s is like no other store in the world.
That New York City never sleeps.
Two truths and a lie.
My great-grandfather was the elevator man in the Flatiron Building.
My grandfather was the mayor’s chauffeur.
My grandmother was a Rockette.
On our first date I felt like throwing up and you told me to stare at the yellow line.
In the city car my dad let me use the siren, pointed at the antennae in the sky.
All the things I didn’t say. All the things I didn’t buy.