Man

college I kept my body in a constant fit: classes, life in my place taken care of and the constancy of the air where the windless cold drizzle snow icy sun ran straight through the nights into the next and the following and end; . . . . . . .come to think

high school and before whence I went out on my own, by my self to the solitary courts to shoot, and shoot, dribble that echo into my own forest's sounds, that training--for what I didn't know then--it was just instinctual, like growing up inevitable--and my body went from an untamed else-sufficent to my own, my possession, to take care of...

Since this move, it deteriorated. As was described aloud, and which I cannot ever forget immortalized that legendary image of myself, fasting somehow over weeks cutting myself to slices of pb&j, chicken & tomato soup when I was sick, and cereal and indulgent milk for breakfast until I stabilized myself in my own place. Since then, I have been cooking, eating more regularly my chinatown groceries in delegated portions that I fix for myself. I go out once in a while when friends do. Then the weather warmed; the blizzard cleared. A block and a turn were the Central Park paths, which I have grown to love: those twin days of that one weekend, I ran cross and across the park, I conquered it, and felt somehow deservedly, or more like that bit more worthily, some piece of this island called Manhattan; and goddam this place has loved me into its orphanage's own, if temporarily, but we'll see.