stuck in the city,
i hear the ambient
stir of the streets
of my apartment window,
it’s night
and bright
with other
sparkling windows
similar to my own,
of windows,
lit apartments,
closed offices,
dark glass with
fictional faces
standing against it
with steam breath
looking on to
the streets beneath,
thoughts alike,
television flickers
of indigo lonliness. . .
i feel my building
19 stories up
think about swaying,
and i imagine
with horrible thought
the top-heavy topple
of Manhattan buildings
stunned in the moon’s shadow
to the crust of
city sidewalk,
gum-stained with tragedy
and woozy with memories
of being a young city
in a world
too heavy
for its own weight


Written in New York, NY 2012

Categories: Travel Poetry | Leave a comment

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