City Thing  5/11/00

standards shift in political year. the desperate
trees will be neatly sliced. the gravity pulling
them downward would be a slow, swimming force. the
antagonism collapses on the scattered versions,
and all words are suspect. in these slants in
which we live, the variances are short barks. not
as of the dog, sleeping on the couch, but a noise
in the night. still, we are entitled, filled with
potential flowers and the obverse side of coins.
pretty things work wonders at times, a whistled
tune in the chipper noontide easiness. the nettled
and veered grows common but we aren't slaves. the
chances are rosy sometimes and that is a meaning.
if we could outstretch the marketplace, add a few
tones to each measure, and scratch out messages in
the dirt: there might be a chorus. insistence is a
field where the corn grows quickly and tall. the
pollen flies and collects, all in order.
excursions bring grand sights to mind. chosen
words fill sentences, then the sentences embark.
there are people aboard, looking squarely at each
other. this is a moment, lasting for a stretch. or
the stretch is simply the body feeling like a
building, structured as such. the words collect,
as does the pollen. a place is found and built.
that's how cities are made.