blue sunrise falls over the orange sunset
trees sway to the wind's music
the hollow doves call out above the city
their beaks bloated with the river's refuse
choking out their tortured cries
that echo back from the suspension bridges
the cables held taut by downward pressure
the crawling mechanical beings
their insectile shrieks cutting through the air
as they cling to their tenuous grip on the earth
made possible by the laws that put them there
the swaying creak imperceptable to the ear
as the buildings react to the spinning earth
and the tidal hours are so much harder
in the hundreds of feet where they hover
the waves that permeate the atmosphere
become conceptually a solid mass
and the tiny humans are crushed to the ground
by a huge, immense, incomprehensible sound
the sun has warmed the buildings here
their tall bodies sit like radiator coils
in a bathtub of water and a plugged-in shaver
the shock of the shimmering, translucent heat
the coals of a sidewalk burning their feet
as they scurry towards dark recesses
in the structures that set off the heat
and the coolness inside
in deep, harse contrast
to the oven of roasting
earth on a spit
somewhere in a city,
july present