beside shuffling jackets, corduroy against denim,
and through a frosted sea of glass i see a world stretch
and eyes break from sleep—
barrel arms scrape against the sky,
the squirm of being cramped against
asphalt backs, slippered shoes
of dank and dust rubbing against the
tired old brick of office and appointment—
but in the wink of sunlight, curling up
herself from dream, i feel the beat of possibility
coursing through the city’s veins;
i feel the pulse of city ring into
a tenuous smile, a ravenous, bright grin—
and forth from that sheer and mild madness
ushers constant the glistening make of day.