trashbag flowers bloom in city rain
and i’m walking down 116 east thinking trees
have invaded the fertile concrete slabs
whose skeletal scaffolding postpones the inevitable
ruin of Manhattan’s postindustrial agglomeration
watching trainworms burrow greenline tunnels
fourfivesix that i ride downtown
amid paroxysmic earthquakes of 9am commuters
writing gutterpoems on the fly posing questions
to the rats who hunger for our sustenant waste
subway reveries disturbed by maniac preachers
as we surge for the exits and i ditch the six
33rd street in tourist smog the Empire State
eight-hour purgatory naked lunches on pavement
at fleabag demonstrations howling scatological axioms
theorems composed of bums pissing in corners
flung fruitlessly at daytraders peddling bromide manifestos
pantomimed by TV extras in Jersey freightyards
with actors who mingle over craftservice and happyhours
under Midtown moons and Spanish Harlem sunsets
nights in Morningside where Lorca witnessed the crash
insurgent parks revolt in cracks spreading weeds
leaves of grass reigning terror before the trembling skyscrapers
subterranean peons breathing seditious spores
of photosynthetic poisons and pathogenic prairies
sprouting homesick trees that will reclaim the island
from the city a junk heap of buried treasure
amassed by the oligarchs the titans of industry
dripping its sorrow blues reeking its rotten joys
its sky a murderous orchestra of inhuman chaos
twilight metropolis where i bid my farewells
to the smells emanating from the sewer
policecar arias and grasshopper symphonies
on lukewarm nights of resonant grass
still broke just the way the city found me
tendering my resignation to the city
as i wave goodbye