Stars wink in the windows
of this built-up world,
a monument of a city
rooted in subway tracks,
boneyard rattle rushing
under streets, thrumming
my limbs into black sky,
lightless against the outline
of New Jersey, the other shore
that I am.
of this built-up world,
a monument of a city
rooted in subway tracks,
boneyard rattle rushing
under streets, thrumming
my limbs into black sky,
lightless against the outline
of New Jersey, the other shore
that I am.