What I Really Like

What I really like is
Walking home
After a party
After six plastic
Cups of wine
Walking past
Really interesting things
Like Indian takeout
Tikka massala
In a styrofoam carton
On the sidewalk.
The spilled raita
Looks like moonlight.
What I really like is
Reaching an intersection,
A little wobbly,
And wondering if I should cross
Even though I see
A red hand across the street,
A burning red hand on fire.
The hand isn’t quivering from pain,
It’s firm in the air
Floating
And it’s saving my life.
I’m thankful and want to
Read its palm to tell its future,
But before I can
It turns into a walk sign.
What I really like
And this is what I really like
Is this moment
After all the talk has stopped.
Winter has reached 34th Street
And takes the N train
To my hood.
Something
Has clicked and
I don’t care about anything.
That’s what I really, really like.