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by on September 6, 2008 :: 0 comments

Intangible wilderness
that sometimes possesses us
in the myth of civilization,
is all that holds
this raptured city from destruction.
Do the poets who sing of the city
know anything of the city?
When we are the only core
that keeps reality together,
for surely if our reasoning selves
suddenly were to doubt
that our subway days
and rummage-sale nights
were all the glory
we ever would obtain,
in that faithless moment,
nature, in her new sneakers,
would place her arch-supported,
space-age ventilated soles,
on 8 million delusions
and pffffft….

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