Noah Friedman

Suburbia Mexicana

Behind those eyes

love, happiness and joy

clash silently

with  sorrow

and indignation.

The stigma,

the stereotype,

the struggle fade away

behind those smiles.

But only for a moment.

“Life is good,

sometimes.

Sometimes.

Work,

but no passion.

Life,

but no freedom. 

Smiles from gratefulness,

not satisfaction.”

Happiness is unconditional.

The truck,

the saw,

the worn out clothes,

exist only as conditions.

The eyes tell a story.

“We struggle.

We grind.

But happiness remains”

Happiness remains.

Inspired by Alejandro Cartagena, Carpoolers


Galactic Tear Drops on Trimmed Bermuda Grass

I sit paralyzed watching as she quietly reads her newspaper in her own universe. A pigeon leaves my orbit and enters hers, the first connection our universes have seen today. I could stand, no, I want to stand, and move myself into her sight, into her orbit, into her universe. But [gravity] in my world is too strong. I have words I dream of speaking, but they’re trapped in my mouth, held hostage by the prison guards that are my fears. A tear glides down my check, and falls, silently striking the trimmed Bermuda grass below. The butterflies in my stomach seem angry with me. They’re trying to tell me to enter her orbit, but [gravity] keeps me stuck in my own universe. Another tear strikes the grass. Today isn’t the day to defy [gravity]. The butterflies fly angrily and violently through my stomach as I watch her stand up and walk away. Her orbit is gone now, disappeared into another galaxy. Another tear strikes the grass.


Noah Friedman is a first-year student at Boston University pursuing a major in business and a minor in acting and performance. He was born and raised in New York City and is proud to call it his true home.