Eyes Swim


Months ago, I saw a motorcycle cop wipe out on First Avenue here in New York.

Ever been walking down a street with your iPod and heard some city sound that infiltrated the song, and weren’t sure if it was a part of the song? This happens to me all the time. Usually construction noises, as my east village turns into a skyscraper Epcot, but on this day, I distinctly heard the Doppler siren in my ear as I walked up. It turns out that some sheepishly-dressed maggot on a cellphone didn’t, and was crossing the street as this 5-0 tore up the street. There would’ve been a head-on collision, and the cop had two choices: ram into the back of a cab, or lie down and slide.

Somehow, our wayward pedestrian didn’t get arrested, only chewed out. But it made me realize that all it takes to beat a cop in this city is crosswalks, and impeccable timing. Dystopia isn’t nearly as scary when it has a beat to keep time to, or I’ve found, when I’m trying to describe it lyrically. But at least we aren’t writing songs about ‘The Hills’.

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