Home Bitter Poems Lux

Lux

Light is salutation is New York at night is a billion sparks fallen
from a heaven of stars to pulse above Harlem, Carnegie
Hall, Soho, Little Italy and everyplace else that wards off
darkness between Kings and Queens, Hudson river and
the Bronx…spilled from hulking concrete birds
vying for Manhattan sky whose dreams are light, each eye
a seperate portal electrically enchanted effacing night’s
erasure looking down with insight on taxi headlights, neon
signs, traffic signals, cop-car cherry-tops, torch’s on the
Brooklyn bridge, streetlamps in the park, Times Square’s orgy
of tungsten filaments, Broadway’s cry… to be or not to be
and the glassy stare of a hard luck drunk vomiting in the gutter
at Broome St. and West Broadway while traffic looms
in a numinous selvage containing the city’s awe in
small glass vacuums that dilate my eyes …carry me in
koans to her blinding heart whose essence is lux is love
is night’s most beautiful… annihilation.

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