Squint your eyes and look closer I'm not between you and your ambition I am a poster girl with no poster I am thirty-two flavors and then some And I'… - Ani DiFranco

i could step off the end of this pier but i got
shit to do and an appointment on tuesday
to shed uninvited blood and tissue
i'll miss you, i say
to the river to the water
to the son or daughter
i thought better of

i could fall in love with jersey
at sunset
but i leave the view to the rats
and tiptoe back

Men make angry music and it's called rock-and-roll; women include anger in their vocabulary and suddenly they're angry and militant.

I was terrified and devastated and thrilled by the vastness of human experience that was suddenly all around me. There were punk bands playing in the bandshell in Tompkins Square Park and illegal squats in all the abandoned brownstones. (The driver of our van was staying at one of them.) There were elaborate shantytowns popping up on the Lower East Side and even a faint bohemian aroma still wafting through the West Village. CBGB’s was still CBGB’s and Times Square was still nasty old Times Square. The City seemed to be in the hands of immigrants and artists, punks and queers, and I felt drawn to it like iron to the center of the earth.