To a Twenty-Two-Year Old, New to the City (Part One)

I

Thy first bedroom shall be walk-through
but the fire escape thy sanctuary
Thou shalt crank A Tribe Called Quest
from tinny speakers
and drink High Life from a bottle at sunset
waiting for friends to yell from below
to join thee in summer eve's merriment

From thy roof, thou shalt see all of
Brooklyn laid out before thee
The F train winding up the hill
toward Smith-Ninth Station
Manhattan and Jersey City sparkling
Lady Liberty peeking above the BQE

One too-imbibed midsummer's night
thou shalt sleep on thy roof
Dawn will find thee dirty, groggy, cold
Let thy view warm thy soul

Thou shalt splash thy face, tie thy hair back,
and ride the M train to Queens
Rumble over Bushwick and peer through
acid-etched windows
and remember all that thou hast