the dregs
of the empire state
are hollering in the early evening,
just blue clouds
and alien arms outstretched
to beat down the cold of the premature darkness,
even of this,
what little there is to be had
could drown any second,
and wash away
in the river of lights
and ocean of sounds that are the city.
leaning out the window,
i let my eyes chase the dream and this one spearhead,
one sharp blade that cuts through the belly of all,
and stare down 42nd street
to the ailed heart
of the mobbing, throbbing beast.
having forsaken my salvation for the grip of the pavement,
the cracks in the asphalt,
the trickling scraps of paper and man,
it is all i can do today
to crawl back in from a week of this ride
and settle in for a moment,
an hour,
a breath,
a sip,
and listen
to the never ending hum,
hinting at the grinding of the gears deep underground,
below the trains,
below the rocks below the trains,
there has to be some spark
that set this place on fire,
way back,
way back before we agreed to do this here.
there is still some hint in the shimmer
to the fearless brawl that got the whole thing under way,
something fierce,
inexhaustible,
unquenchable,
some little flicker that won't quite be quelled,
but her evidence is saved for the eyes of the last lost ones,
the dogs and rats of the city
and this one final fatal flag.
the empire state,
buried in the baby fingers of a new borne empire,
we can only watch,
like the last mast of the great ship,
trickling under,
no wind ever devised could tickle the hull
back from the deep and across the sea.
it makes perfect sense from time to time.
other times it hurts worse than chewing on rocks.
fights, screams, sirens, yuppies, drinks, work, work, fucking, scams, takers, givers, garbage, smog, smokes, parties, work, drinks, work, drinks, fucking, food, freezing to the bone, boiling in oil, time spiring away like a dive bar shitter that hasn't been flushed all day long.
any second, any moment, whoosh!
all gone, all gone, all gone.
i wouldn't have missed it for the world.