bare wires and concrete

I have to hear the city
new, to know her
destroyed wrists, supple
and exploding, quiet with
in their course of aging, i need
to walk these side walks elevated,
shocked by the bright indifference of the
sun and the bone fleck moon,
i trace my heart on the named avenues,
and pace out a life measuring the ally
for neighbors loyalties, this kingdom of
dust and ash can rust, watching each
moth, ascend the seasonal tree, being
captured in the cicadas bronze
summer soundings, all collide here
in this city, desolate, growing
so many flowers, and tomatoes, prayers
of thanksgiving and the ghastly echoes
pushed along still to chlorinate the
dew, and purify the simplicity of being
i walk knowing and not, like love
afraid of what dark thing i will map
in the course of wandering, and
see finally the face of my own longings
deformed by loneliness grown tough
and empty by singularity, a house-less road,
forgotten by the cities tender municipalities.