From Avenue A to Abingdon Square

I traced my tracks towards the setting sun

on one of the loveliest afternoons one week before the summer solstice,

stopping only for vegan ice cream

handmade by adorable, tattooed, black eye-lined angel girls

who top off every sundae with coconut whipped cream and an organic black cherry.

That made the trip worth taking. 

The LES still rang its punk bell since the early ‘80s. 

Young punks still piss and moan loudly on the street under tagged tenement buildings 

as the old-timers and confused tourists escaped into Russ & Daughters and Katz’s.

On Orchard Street, I was feeling nostalgic, 

but since I misplaced the boutique where I brought my wedding dress twelve years earlier, 

I had no business remaining there.

4th Street brought me to Cooper Square, NoHo, Lafayette, and NYU, 

as the sky slowly turned golden.

I wanted some more day time in the East Village 

before darkness claimed its hold upon the city, 

so I walked to Bleecker, a special street; 

(sometimes I wish it was a man, so I can both fuck and romance it).

As the sky grew bands of blue, gray and pink, 

I rode to M12 home, chasing the last, magnificent dregs 

of this golden hour, of this golden day, to evening:

crossing under the High Line, 

lapping by the mighty Hudson, 

towards home, to the middle of the city.

No one cares

if a black, kindly neighbor 

goes to the neighborhood bodega

& ends up dead

No one cares

if a woman, clad in a tight miniskirt,

gets fondled, fingered or raped

without her consent;

she was probably asking for it—

No one cares

when Asians get harassed 

or spat upon in the subway:

they’re the carriers of disease.

No one cares

if Native Americans lose

another acre of land

to big corporations fracking & pipelining

No one cares

about the illegals:

they should remain at the border,

penned up like animals

No one cares 

about sexual deviants.

Why should they marry each other & raise kids?

Why should they want to change their gender?

& no one gives a damn

about the children:

when their parents die,

when injustice wins—

Wait a minute:

Everyone cares!

That’s why they’re marching,

Mr. President—

They do give a damn!

Not everyone’s apathetic;

that’s why

they’re taking it to the streets!

Not everyone 

are looters or criminals 

or rebel-rousers;

they don’t need to

wave their Bibles—

Enough is enough.

Even those staying at home 

are with the protesters.

That’s why we chose 

not to tune in to your speech

on television yesterday;

you want to change America 

into a military task force state.

That is not our America. 

We don’t care for that.

Black lives matter.

Women’s lives matter.

Asian lives matter.

Native American lives matter.

Latino & Hispanic lives matter.

LGBTQIA lives matter.

Children’s futures matter.

We all matter—

we’re still alive & kicking

& we don’t care

to be considered

as criminals 

in America,

no more!