and you can't see out the window…
and smoke gets in your eyes…
and I just wanna cry…
cry…cry…cry…cry…cry…cry…cry…
it's so good out this morning…
the bastard just stood out in the balcony and breathed that shit in…
eyes closed…
coffee in hand…
straight up peaceful.
and I glanced at the autopsy that was my view of the Empire State Building and saw that there was this patch of clarity…
a small sliver of the fdr drive…
some nondescript buildings…
a patch of the river…
and no logistical way for a developer to block it…
and the bastard thought to himself…
'self… this small spot isn't going away and that totally does not suck'
and it doesn't
—the bastard
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