Poems written in NYC from late 2009 to 2011 on subway cars, bridges, river shores, museums, pubs and alleys. Through the window of the hungry city: aging oceans, lonely divinity, black moons, river bottoms, unborn colors, and songs of exile are recalled and laid away. The city turns the poet upside down, shakes out his words like coins; The poet renders the city unreal through active dreaming. Which is enduring / which becomes empty / which remembers which? With paintings and drawings made by the author.
Trains full of wondering
Tilt the bridges as
They bring the empty pages
Across the river again and
Again
I am tempted
To go to the room
Where the waves crash
Wait
Too many things
In the sky falling
Today
As I redream
Trying to disarm
The memory
Of you scratching away
My skin
Skinless I
Tell you
I have lost the colors
My Father once shown in the sky
Between two nights
The soul
The reason
I see
Too bold I’ve declared my freedom
Too heavy I’ve poured
Over the glass
And how rich
The home I left
Has become
Did I tell you?
The west coast of anything
Washes up my words
They come from you
Walking back
Across the water
They come from the sound of rain
Pleasuring the Earth
As you turn in your sleep
Away from the morning
Hearing just
Today’s bindings
Opening