ph: kathrin ziegler
Once upon a time in a galaxy far far away, girlontape bought a little apartment on Avenue C
between 9th and 10th, and lived there happily ever after for a while.
Those years were special, radical and beautiful, and part of their beauty was strolling, lounging,
picknicking, listening to music and celebrating wigstock in our beloved and heroic
tompkins square park.
Over the hours and the seasons I got to know every tree and flower and Puerto Rican drummer
and homeless Vet in that park... and I love it as my very own.
The day my grandfather died, the park looked like this:
|ph: david shankbone|
|To the garden, the world, anew ascending,|
|Potent mates, daughters, sons, preluding,|
|The love, the life of their bodies, meaning and being,|
|Curious, here behold my resurrection, after slumber;|
|The revolving cycles, in their wide sweep, have brought me again,||5|
|Amorous, mature—all beautiful to me—all wondrous;|
|My limbs, and the quivering fire that ever plays through them, for reasons, most wondrous;|
|Existing, I peer and penetrate still,|
|Content with the present—content with the past,|
|By my side, or back of me, Eve following,||10|
|Or in front, and I following her just the same.|
walt whitman, leaves of grass