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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




I am tempted


To go to the room


Where the waves crash






Too many things


In the sky falling




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



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