Girl In Yellow

Livestock rushing
thirty degrees.
Overpopulated streets,
American phrases.

I can feel the warmth
on my curious face.

In the moment,
in the moment.

Hit in the shoulder,
I fall to the concrete.

Mannerisms or just plain rudeness?

It’s almost time for
the light to start sleeping.

Night crawls through the clouds.
Electricity overload, blinding my eyes.

Anything can happen here.

Apart from getting a taxi cab,
still mastering lingo.

New, in New York.
Sticking out like a girl in yellow.

Feet. Firmly. Planted.

Lost in the blur of madness,
I ask a stranger for my save.