Fare To Lower Manhattan Near Battery Park

From the roof we can see several poems
burning in lower Manhattan. A Vatican
like white smoke empties into the peaceful
East River. The shower pours itself clumsily
on Battery Park.

When I came for you my eyes were pilasters
of buttery gold. We slept in cucumber tinted
dusk. Looters drift through the city and traffic
moves on quickly; peacocks with stained green
tails whir in stank cages at the zoo.

Lightening burns into the horizon, lovers brush
the turnstiles of the BMT Bronx trains.

by Bernard Henrie

Other poems of HENRIE (162)

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