After Walt Whitman's "Mannahatta"
A stitch in the brow as our eyes catch the sun
in a wan stretch of manila
sediment, gift on a breeze from the North,
with the leaves lit beneath
We raise our phones, taken
A bolt of lightning become the whole sky
& the fireball, red
I have seen this -
industry bright against blush of gold
with a dusting of mourning-dove feather -
at the westernmost point
It winks back
Once upon a time
the flexible hickory dazzled a people
so charmed they grew it an island
of grass, then hide, then brick
named for its gut's potential
to hem unbound forces
an offering to the impossible
Manhattan
Built on garnet, the color of flame,
A man waves a gun as my boyfriend eats duck
"How was it?" He says, "Delicious"
6 June 2023, Seward Park NYC
God sighs pink smoke
He retracts with a low breath in
I'm inside the sparkle
breathing in His image
I light a candle
its flicker dancing
its sigh curling up to the frescoed ceiling
Silence is another kind of speaking
No less powerful. The eagle is born
when the egg cracks
and if you wait long enough you’ll see
him flying over the river
Barred from relaxing into time
I sit taut and resentful
I sit taut and resentful
which I carry in my throat
I ask for His help
to give it all up
ISet me free, O Lord, I pray
Set me free, I pray, O Lord
Set me free
Set me free
Set me free
Set me free
Set me free
Set me free
Flame eats the bones of the box truck
The effigy, shivering through the black air
In a neon oval of ochre
I watch its stomach dissolve
Situation outside of time and place compels me
Yet I am nowhere more of my time and place than
Speeding past on the freeway feeling nothing
Until I am at a remove
There, it crumbles
There, I'm stationed
That's where my there is
A perfectly modern condition