Forever Queens

Lilly Sabella

I saw glimmers of God in the streetlight

lamps that shined through the cracks
of my fingers
as I covered my eyes from the New York City night
exhausted in yet another $8 Uber ride from Roosevelt to home
the fast lights dragged my heart to exit 33
as I bloomed beneath my forever,
my Queens.

I couldn’t write fast enough to fill the train rides
my legs numbed on the E 
where I memorized poems to recite in French class
my eyes closed on the 7 
always on the way to work and back 
Hunters Point and sweeping sunsets
printed on the inside of my eyelids 
as I soared above food trucks and groups of teenagers
I memorized boots and heels and the toes of strangers
our sides pressed together
each passenger connected through a chain of thighs touching and arms rubbing
swaying to the beat of the closing doors
and endless delays.

There were buses and buses
because my friends live deep
Buses because I do too
because this place is so big and broad
you can sink in it
the subway can’t reach it all
Buses I begged for free rides on
and waited in the rain for
some passengers obeying the unspoken rule of law
in the land of blue chairs and
yellow wires,
some not.
and as I looked in my seat
(farthest in the back, last one on the right)
around at the mothers wearing
Paw Patrol backpacks
and their children, so small, their feet not yet touching the ground
all I could think was that everyone seemed so tired
as we rode together, without the luxury of cars to take us on our own.
all the days spent here,
together,
blurring into something that mattered.

I’ve run all throughout Queens searching for my name
from Jamaica to Jackson Heights
Astoria to Corona
until the borough became a part of me,
where I spent hours walking under the El
feeling everyone was so alive
eating outside of food trucks and blasting music in languages I couldn’t understand
buying iced teas from the bodega men and petting deli cats
my whole life spent here
a part of me, with pride 

---

The End of the N

Toni Brannagan

the first apartment is what they mean when they say “shoe box”
a Craigslist listing with no photos
ceiling-high windows frame the lofted tracks.
I learn to let the subway lull me to sleep at night
I race it to the station most mornings 
and lose most mornings
taking too long to climb up to the platform
where the wind blows fierce through the tunnel
the city sounds from below echo above.

Living at the end of the N means 
you always get the seat you want in the morning
tucked in the corner of the car 
where no one asks you what you’re reading 
if you keep your head down.

On Saturdays I write on barstools 
where they know how I take my coffee
and what time I switch to wine.
When the lights dim low 
I nod along while other locals grumble,
Train was stuck at Queensboro for half an hour today.
Did you hear about that Target moving in?
Maybe in five more years
I’ll weigh in, too.

I’m constantly lost in Queens
23rd Ave or 23rd Road or 23rd Drive
the best I can do
is estimate
above or below Ditmars 
towards the park
down by Steinway
by this friend or that friend’s apartment.

One day I walk the wrong way out of a bar
a sun and trio of stars on a yellow awning catch my eye
and I step into a modest storefront filled with titas 
who have my mother’s tongue.
I’ve never seen a Filipino grocery store before
and there was one right here
this whole time
and when I Google it later
because I was worried I’d forget the cross streets
there are more.

On my way to the park I visit our elderly neighbor, Maya
petting her nose through the garden gate
(Maya is a Siberian Husky.)
Then I stand on our side of the East River 
down the hill where the concrete slopes into green
until the sun ducks behind the Hellgate
replaced by Manhattan’s glow
I turn and walk in a straight line home.

Performance

Process

Lilly wrote her poem first, and Toni took cues from Lilly’s poem to contrast her experience. The pair edited them together to compliment each other’s work. Each poem was inspired by their own lives and relationship to Queens, what they love about it and where, in the borough, they find poetry.