by Geer Austin Goodbye My name is Jérôme, and I live near the Avenue du Président Kennedy, you said. Your hair was green so I asked you to stay. Yeah but I got a ticket to fly, you said. We were in my apartment on Mulberry Street, watching hipsters clomp up the block. A tricolored
by Geer Austin You moved to another state and I roamed from man to man to woman from Mulberry Street to West Street to alphabet streets, past sex workers on Delancey, where cars rattled and bumped toward Williamsburg, shaking my bones while viruses and parasites and bacteria flirted with my cells. And what I heard