Miami: A Love Story
I am supposed to be painting large cardboard cut outs for Saturday that are taking up half of the apartment and I am trying to ignore the fact that I have acrylic paint all over my knees and right elbow. Because my mind is wandering and I am procrastinating, I thought of you.
I love you because:
You ARE ‘poorly organized.’
You do things backwards and don’t care.
Your heat is exhausting and the sun always shines.
You drive 30 mph in the fast lane without a care in the world.
‘Be there right away’ means ‘see you in an hour.’
Your brain and buildings are sun-bleached.
You insist on speaking to me in Eh-Spanish even though I answer you in English.
‘Chonga’ is a way of life and ‘Sowesera’ is south west.
Cortadito, Cafecito, Colada, Por Favor.
