Souvenirs

BOBBI SALVÖR MENUEZ ARTWORK BY ANGALIS FIELD Everywhere I go, the city lives in me. I wake up fast. My blood moves fast. I eat fast. Although I didn’t come here by choice, I do choose to stay. When my mom went to the hospital to give birth to me, she brought a pair of jean shorts. They rode in my dad’s white pickup truck, with the cartoonish eyes spray-painted on the roof, to Long Island College Hospital (a hospital that doesn’t exist anymore), which at the time, in the ’90s, was located on Henry St. in Brooklyn. The shorts she brought were from before she got pregnant. It was spring, and she thought that maybe after I left her body, the shorts would fit right away like they had before, but of course they didn’t. At this time, on 6th Avenue in Brooklyn, where we lived, there was a…