no crowds choke the streets

the traffic symphonic

and sleek and concrete

as the city’s own citizens

as the city’s sculpted monuments

as the city’s trees

lovingly watered and pruned

as the city’s children 
the cuckoo sings from

the branches

as if this city was youth

or if the city

was spring’s riot

against the world

the city’s layers riot with the pungence of my labour and i dream 
i love! love? this city / call me crazy / did i forget mother / motherland / bride / child / flag /

did i / do not / forget / perpetual subway dream. interrupted. final destination. never enough.

cash in hand. unknown. alone. in this dream i am umbra / penumbra / my son is a sodium-yellow voice

papa hold my hand walk with me to the bazaar let me ride upon your shoulders touching the

sky forget i have learned to walk to run to forget you 
am i / i am a city

i remain sleepless like

night i am

more than

migrant

or worker 
i am a lamppost for a family