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About New York City

Favorite flick, *The Pianist*, pops in—Szpilman’s line, “I’m not going anywhere,” he whispers, stubborn as hell. Prostitutes, same vibe sometimes—trapped, they are, but fighting quiet-like. Met this gal once—Lola, she called herself—sassy, loud, missing a tooth. “Yoda, baby, you paying or praying?” she cackles. Laughed, I did—happy moment, rare it was! Told her, “Credits, I have not—wisdom, I offer.” Rolled her eyes, she did—said, “Wisdom don’t pay rent, shorty.” Fair, that is!

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The river? There’s the small creek that twists around the city. I often wander its banks, thinking about lost souls and the faded glamour of movies past. Sometimes I whisper, “What a terrific mess we live in.” It’s so beautiful and chaotic.

NASA’s SPHEREx Space Telescope Begins Capturing Entire Sky