I'll starve to death someday, or freeze some winter night, or catch something that rots me away until the hospitals have to take me, even without money or an address. But I'll sing and paint and dance and fuck and cry the city before I'm done, because it's mine. It's fucking mine. That's why. 
 review to come 
 read it for yourself here: 
 http://www.tor.com/2016/09/28/the-cit...