The Bohemian Experiment

Jane fell in love with the idea of New York
moved there in June
found an apartment with scorch marks on the rafters
and that rattled when the F train came through

On days she felt pleased with herself
she took walks through the city
stopped in shops
not to buy, but to
surround herself with small spaces of reality
The peoples’ voices were like music;
a lullaby
sending her into a dream world

She couldn’t explain the intense joy she felt when, for example,
a Jewish man with a Russian accent suggested wall paper patterns,
or an old Chinese woman explained incense’s spiritual significance.
It made her feel the way she did while imagining her apartment in the city
before she even moved there

She felt the same way while sitting on a park bench, observing tourists, and
realized travel could be considered an elitist pastime.
Afterward she bought a hot dog and a soda and ate under a warm April sun,
quite taken with herself.
Sitting there she remembered she’d been in the city almost a year.
The idea of living in New York for that long
made her feel even more smitten.

The feeling ended abruptly, however,
when a bit of ketchup dropped onto her new dress,
the one she’d bought from the gypsy downtown.
What she felt next was a great sense of disillusion,
though at the time she didn’t know why.