Bedford Night
by Elias Tezapsidis
In Bushwick we partied.
She liked to brag about Stuy
We drove together in a U-Haul.
She always said ‘is’ for him
But after our Stephen Shore adventure
I understand she meant ‘was’
In Ann-Arbor we stopped.
She liked the way I smelled when tired
Now I smell fresh and we don’t party and we don’t stop
but when she ‘he is’ I know because she can’t ‘he was’
Some mornings I wish she were blonde so that when she leaves I wouldn’t have to pick
up the hairs she left behind.
When I think about why I am so intrigued by her I can never explain. When I stop, I
party, and get tired and wake up some mornings.
About the Author:
Elias grew up in Thessaloniki, Greece, prior to attending Macalester College in Saint Paul, Minnesota. It was there that he discovered he was too neurotic and OCD for the Midwest and had a low-tolerance for the MN-nice. The move to NYC post-graduation seemed like the logical next step, and since then downtown New York has been home.
