At a poetry release party last week, a cheery couple in sweater vests approached me by the bowl of clementines in the corner. They introduced themselves with, “We see you every morning on the G train!”. As I peeled back the zesty citrus, basking in the glow from the neighboring neon foundry, I simply could not pretend that I recognized them. The very next morning, I pried the crooning ear buds out of my canals, tucked the limp novel back into my bag, and looked up. Sure enough, two familiar beaming faces greeted me. Lulled by the persistent tide in this sea of humanity, I have become numb to the visages before me. And so, Keep It Weird gently reminds me to spend a little more time face to face.
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