this beta-carotene City,
this sepia-toned slide
burnt up,
crisp and curled around the corners

the twisted tongues,
the mangled metal,
the bleeding ink,
the billowing smoke

the City, it heaves,
heavy with thick Heat
impressed upon it
and leaking in to it,

the City is pregnant
six months of the year,
in Heat,
it's turgid, with thick,
distended walls

its people are breathing,
waiting and believing,
and using this City like a canvas
they create—
as they are created by it—
the colors, they blend
in the Heat
and they bend
into something a little more beige all around

yes, there is something in this City's science
that I can trust,
something in its wavelengths
that make it incapable to judge

it is fluid and untethered,
it is rational and unfettered—

there is something robust
baked deeply into this City's crust—

yes, there is something in this City's science
that I can trust

08/27/2010

Posted on 08/28/2010
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