New York's rainy elbow nudges
me to the ground. The message is
dégagé. I'm
out in the open, with my feet on a pillow
of wet concrete. People walk in the
weather in bright rubber boots
under black umbrellas. A car alarm
startles me in the ivory tower.
It looks like a supreme organism
is listing to one side. The cambered
elegance of a shark toy
on the subway stairs. Walk on the street
in something startling and blue.
I force a yawn to make my ears pop. Flight
is remarkable. Moving through time
and space from Place des Vosges to
Cobble Hill. Blurred, an overlay
of gray and green, with lines forming
words on the postcards I forgot to send.