TWO OR THREE THINGS I KNOW ABOUT (CINEMANIA ON THE 31ST OF JANUARY)

I love the tunnel shot

right into the city and

I have abhorrence for

the sniffles but tolerance

for them if they punctuate

the moment when everything

breaks the otherwise consistent

leveled suspension of belief.

It sucked to notice

the behinds of matching haircuts

his lank walking up out

and the laugh you had with me

in the paranoid position

and you unable to see it

back as we were.

Luckily I was there

enough not to miss the beginning

and with enough neuroses

to self-discover you

cannot let a person ruin a film!

THE NEW YORKER CARTOON

Imagine I am surrounded

by medical professionals

hemming and hawing

prescribing me

a New York night.

Since I have had it

with graphic design,

chic restaurants,

ordained outposts,

explanations

of all my

benefits!

Naadhira

says she can smell butter

in the Paris air and I

absolutely long

for that. There,

and with all

my ducks in a row.

But no. It shifts. Here,

the weather helps,

the movies help.

A woman,

shuffling out,

says, “Hi my darling.

It is really raining.”

And it is. I celebrate,

let the trumpet blare over

the art event recharge

me for I would

die if not

moved

THERE ARE NO OWLS IN BUSHWICK

I’m being funny

A spiritual life

Put down

No longer with us

There are no owls in Bushwick

Though I think I can hear

The hooting

Only a hundred bad mornings’ doves

Ari Lisner is a poet, journalist, and researcher whose writing captures queer intimacy against the backdrop of New York City. Find Ari on Instagram at @arisbarmitzvah.