When I Go Out and Then Come Back

When I go out 
and then come back
with my psyche’s sack
as packed with the city
.
as all of the rest of me,
I’m coming back to New York 
of course. Like the mane
is the horse, andouille 
.
would not be but for pork,
and I am made out of New York,
not just in it. I’m a pure-grained 
example of what New York
.
does to the unwary soul 
in that famed New York minute.
It swallows you whole.
Even my iPhone colludes
.
in the business of keeping me
conscious of this, block to block.
When without mercy I’m shunted
from corner to curb in Manhattan 
.
and seize up inside 
from the shock, my iPhone 
reliably counsels:
‘press home and unlock.’
.
Since I’m always and already
home, pressing home doesn’t 
ever require a key. I press home 
and unlock when I know there was 
.
never a lock to begin with -
just me and the city and me
in the city and me as the city
and...

.