(no subject)
I have collected the plastic tops from hundreds of Starbucks cups and strung them together with used teabags like a daisy chain and reinforced them with straws and especially those wooden stirrer things and constructed for myself a magnificent pair of wings that glistens in the white electric light of the city block. The heat of the asphalt massaged by yellow cabs causes an updraft; I hardly need to wave the wings to stay aloft. Which is good, because even with my hat on it is so cold that I can hardly move; my back and neck are so tense I can't even turn my head to complete a peak into one of these windows. Six or so stories up, I cannot fly over these buildings, but am still too far from the ground, and I have forgotten how to land or never learned and I need someone warm to catch me, please.