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