It took a ride uptown on the 1 train to dyckman st
to land me in what is called washington heights,
about 80% dominican, spanish hovering in air
with snow, ground a sheet of ice i tread perilously
in dilapidated rockports. Bean smell mixes
with smelly boot foot smell which mixes
with old trash smell as pervasive as
halal in new york, as pervasive as
rapid ambience change in the span of two blocks,
as happened with me.
SW on hillside, right on sickles,
left on sherman, left on broadway,
left into the cloisters.
I climb a serene snowy hill of a park,
reach the museum, dodge the $10 entrance fee
with my brother’s i-d and a spot-on impersonation,
and sit and write and look at unicorn tapestries
in a realm of medieval stones.
The tapestries depict attempts
to capture and domesticate a unicorn,
humans hoping to profit off the unicorn's
many magical abilities.
Alex Rodriguez was once my favorite baseball player.
I wonder what it must have been like for him,
once a wild unicorn,
then domesticated and now being who he is.
Jameson is a poet and writer based out of Seattle, WA. He graduated from Bates College in 2015 with a BA in English and Creative Writing, for which he wrote a year long creative poetry thesis focusing on sexuality, queerness, and ex-Mormonhood. In his free time, Jameson likes to go for long walks, blog about social justice and music, and make feeble attempts at whistling. He has previously been published in SEED Magazine.