Photos by Taylor Stout

All Those Days in New York

Four Poems from a year in the city

By Dillon Cranston


All those days in New York

new york was lying in bed

listening to homesickness pt. 2

by emahoy tsegué-maryam guèbrou

new york was getting off a long day at work

and there were no seats on the train, but

you seemed so happy when I saw you,

and I’m glad New York was

an inspiration for you.

Somehow, I think it’s better this way

Sun going down a cul-de-sac

Started dry-weeping in my damn dreams today

That one day, I won’t be on the fire escape with Tejas

Won’t wake up next to Nise

Won’t even be Me

So I ask, why worry?

Because nothing is permanent?

And you don’t know what to do,

where to go, or how to get there if

you did. but

As far as I can remember,

I just wanted to begin

Waking Sadly from a Dream

Pockets of compassion

    and metaphors you

    wouldn’t understand

Berlin at dusk

    looking for a restaurant

            with my old man

You’ve been in my

           dreams, dad.

Stepping out for a coffee

    we notice the leak in

        my ceiling, the water

            above my front door

Waking, I remember

            you don’t live

                in New York

feb 22 [entrance]

when i say

a month ago

feels like an entire year

the hail collects on my towels

the beauty of it ending

in imperfection

and better writers’ words

when anything you could say

would be in the way

of a flaw

when someone looks

at me and I smile