The City Is A Garment

A rhinestone skein, a jeweled brocade of light,-
The city is a garment stretched so thin
Her festive colors bleed into the night,
And everywhere bright seams, unraveling,

Now spill their brilliant contents out like coins
On motorways and esplanades; bead cars
Come tumbling down long highways; at her groin
A railtrack like a zipper flashes sparks;

Her hills are haired with brush like cashmere wool
And from their cleavage winking lights enlarge
And travel, slender fingers… softly pull
Themselves into the semblance of a barge.

When night becomes too chill, she softly dons
Great overcoats of warmest-colored dawn.

Originally published by The Lyric

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The City Is A Garment