Poetry

August 15, 2014      

Columbus Circle by Jennilie Brewster

Sitting on a rock in Central Park, having an Americano and pistachio madeleine from the bakery on the third floor of the tall glass tower overlooking the fountain and the globe, I dipped the green cookie into the paper cup, noticed the cigarette butts in the cracks of the rock where grass poked through and remembered two winters ago standing on the same rock, looking out at Christo and Jean-Claude’s Gates snaking an orange line through this nature encircled by the City—and I thought of the crumbs collected in the seam of Isabelle’s dining room table, how her lover, Marjorie, gave her an orange cloth to cover them up.

IMG_0314[1]About the author:

Jennilie Brewster has traveled around the United States making art that explores the relationships between inner and outer landscapes. Her fellowships include the Ucross Foundation and the Headlands Center for the Arts. She has an MFA from Bard College. Jennilie grew up on a farm in Maryland. She lives on Roosevelt Island in NYC and assists with the Renegade Reading Series in Brooklyn.

    1 comment to Columbus Circle by Jennilie Brewster

    • Paul Smith

      Jennilie:

      Enjoyed your poem. I remember being at Columbus Circle wondering if I’d ever take my wife to Tavern on the Green when I worked in NYC. I never did because I got fired. Instead we ate at a Japanese restaurant near Lynbrook, Long Island and then she helped me move back home to Chicago.

      Our memories aren’t that much different.

      Sincerely,

      Paul Smith

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