New York, today,
was bestiary, estuary, salt and fresh,
profusely
animal, unblessed, all unexonerated flesh
and untoward flush
of river water, blaming and untamed
and bound for
slaughter in the Fall. The Fall is resolutely
named – it heralds
New York’s imminent innumerable ends
of enemies
and friends, its immanent indifference to either:
New York,
today, with these or those or them or they,
has had its
underhanded way and will, to many but not
everybody’s sorrow, have its overwhelming way
tomorrow..
No comments:
Post a Comment