by the time you get all the way out,
12th avenue,
out of the midtown glare,
the cliffs of jersey across the cold, cold hudson
you can see stars
not stars like wilderness stars
not like maui stars
or ocean stars
just the big ones
just the clearest parts of the warriors and gods.
just the barest bones
skeleton of the sky
ribs glaring
bleached by moonlight
stripped by neon.
but still
the big ones make it through
the clearest lines of the warriors and gods.
just enough to make a decent show of things.