Monday, August 29, 2016

earth's crammed with heaven, yo

An invisible template
of Manhattan's grid
covers the sidewalks here,
measuring my walks
on pristine quads
in dusty city blocks

a boy--an elegant boy,
whose face is like a man's--
sits on a shaded bench
by Hayes-Healy
and puffs swirls of nicotine
into tree-leaf sunlight

smoky trails of drugged air
an urban incense,
get caught in my hair,
and nose
and memory

green saplings quiver in humid wind
eloquent in their design,
economic in their grandeur,
but their presence signs
a usurpation:
of sapling over ancient oak
of ignorance over memory
of knee replacements

their very life just a sign
that they are doomed to die

Gravestones shine
jubilantly in the careless sun,
who nourishes even as she rots
the palpable presence of a corpse
beating beneath my feet
answering my pulsing heart
with unnatural stillness
and a silence

who is it you look for?

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