Tuesday, April 3, 2012

"The American Girl"

The American Girl

[a poem inspired by my first impression of Amsterdam, and borne of the necessity  of submitting something for my creative writing workshop in order to pass the class]

The air is frantic, flying haphazardly,
And loose ends of a stranger’s scarf
Lick the bright round cheeks of
The American girl.

All is music outside Grand Central Station.
Bicycle bells, rumbling busses, and boots
On cobblestone- an organic symphony
To accompany the cacophonous choir of voices.
Every accent imaginable rings out, and
The furious wind delivers each dialect
Directly to those American ears
In a boisterous melody.

Wide eyes memorize the towers,
The bricks, the turrets, the history. 
A surreal setting, a fairytale scene
Come alive not in pages but in panorama.
Centuries-old buildings settle themselves
Into the scene, lending the city an air of old
Regality, and stealing unbelieving laughter
From speechless American lips.

Caught in a cyclone of culture
Suspended between the new and the known,
The world will never look the same to
The American girl.

And here's a look at you're truly, fully embracing the "American" stereotype while in the epicenter of European sophistication...

I definitely blended in.
Totally natural.
Not tourist-y at all.

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