Every City
The top floor
is vacant, has been cleared, lobotomized,
yet windows freckle the brick near the roof.
Most are blank,
have been boarded up from the inside
but are too high to correct through removal.
Squared glass sprawls
across brick, a clothesline constellation,
a kinked garland. This whole building bears
correction from having
twice been toppled, brighter brick slicing into
rustier stone, scythes, shark fins, sails.
Forward flight, resistance,
every city rises of it. Tenants settle around what
exists, barnacular. There have been witnesses.
Words out of my head...so clear and powerful! Have a great weekend!
ReplyDeleteI see the spacey freckled face. Very nice.
ReplyDeleteI love the final line: "There have been witnesses."
ReplyDeleteYou have a gift of painting pictures, no, scenes; with your poetry.
ReplyDeletefrom Therese B -- The archeology of ruins and layers and also of the tenants who are disempowered (lobotomized, barnacled) for the sake of gentrification or urban "renewal". It also makes me think of your earlier termite poem...companions?
ReplyDeleteNever before in the history of poetry( this is a total guess as I am no expert) has the word 'barnacular' been used to such brilliant effect.
ReplyDelete