written by Domenic

The job was something he had to be up really early for. In the winter the sun was just rising when he went to work. In January, when the air was cold and crisp and his hands would get dry, he would be getting to work as the first rays of the new sun were peaking over all the crap of the South Bronx. Over the highways and the garbage a beautiful orange and red glow would be on the horizon. There is something so serene of that time of the morning. 

                Seeing that sun in front of him as he walked over the 3rd avenue Bridge towards the stairwell down into the construction site always made him happy. It was like he was seeing the beginning of a new era opening just before his eyes. Behind him there were the remnants of the previous day, still dark and gloomy. 

                The walk from the subway on 125th Street and Lexington to the Third Avenue Bridge , at dawn, was an experience in itself. In the winter it was still dark out at 6:45am when he’d be doing this little trek but also very cold. Not many people, save the crackheads and the Teach for America teachers going to their jobs at an elementary school on 128th street, were out. In the early spring and late fall, however, when it was dark out at 6:45am but not too cold, he would stumble upon some strange happenings on this daily walk.

As I walk over the bridge
Climbing over the Harlem River Drive
I peer out over the horizon to the east
Over the factories
Over the public housing, the roads, the cars, the Harlem River.
I turn my head in that direction and over the South Bronx
comes a yellow blue orange haze 
Floating over the river and up into the clouds
Behind me lays darkness

Things that have burned out.
That are now lost
In front is what lays ahead
Things that are about to spark.
Things that have sparked.
They are aflame with life and lust
and are shining brightly up into the early morning sky.

The orange and red streaks up towards the heavens get brighter and brighter

Blinking lights on the Triboro

I exhale and my breath rises in front of me and then passes behind.
The air is crisp
I open the cold lock at the gate, catch one last glimpse of the horizon
and walk down the stairs...   

written by Domenic

For as long as you can remember you have been going to school. As long as your mind has been able to withhold significant amount of memories for a long period of time one theme has always been present. School. Class. Teachers. Endless homework assignments. Quizzes, tests and strange stares from professors.
You are pushed to succeed, to get that grade. Get into a good college, get into ANY college. You go to college you party you do just enough to pass. Then sometime in Late April/Early May of your senior year it all comes to a head. Suddenly everything is due at once and all of your finals are taking place at the same time. You scramble to finish then you turn in your last paper and stand up from your last final walk out of the door and realize, I'm Done. Even after partying for a week straight before you graduation it still hasn't sunk in. Then finally you have a black gown on with a flat hat and you are sitting in seats on a field or in an auditorium. Someone calls your name and you walk across the stage only to be handed a piece of paper with your name on it. The next speaker says congratulations and then you take your cap off and fling it as far as you can up into the air. As you watch it go sailing off into the distance, it's landing place unknown, you can feel that weight, those years of perpetual school, all being released. As it starts to fall back down you lock eyes with a close friend of the past four years who is smiling from ear to ear. Someone you have spent countless strange hours with and who you may never see again. You smile back. Put your hands on the wheel, let the golden age begin.