Uptown a.m. (Poem)

It’s a lotTo force an obstinate brace

Against good morning, the smile 

That burns right through you 

With the knowledge that 

At the first stones throw

This street would 

Bleed itself dry.
To imagine the heft of a stone

Thrown high into the clear blue.

The sudden numbness of elbow,

Confident of its fall.
This contrary dawn

From an open mouthed sleep

Falls awake, to a gluttonous 

Yolk of sun, seed of day,

Bearing down upon shoulders

Until they slope, unbroken 

To the ground.
A painter on the sidewalk 

Is getting it all down, as if

It were somehow important 

Like breathing in and out.
A mud colored sparrow 

Is turned from my stone,

Transforming my violence 

To a blotch, frozen in water.
Street lamp poles bent

To ape the servile stoop

Of morning workers, who stop,

Peek over a shoulder,

Weigh the perspective,

Then move on.
Above Zervo’s shoe repair,

A window sidles up

To release an arm

Fingering into the air

For a touch of rain 

Or wing, then disappears.
I move on, breathing 

In and out.

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