New York City I

a lax lithe confidence 

enables street born youth

to take every three o’clock

homebound sojourn anew,

daily redefining wander

by incorporating wonder.

fresh from panoptic presence

of aging amorphous institution,

the air must taste like a blazed

blue sky blonde, regardless of

season, surrounding, or caste.

mistaken for arrogance, 

mistaken for ignorance, 

children in tension are aware

that this city can belong to them

should confidence grow beyond

romantic ambitions of transients,

nightmares of real estate pirates,

and the unimaginative desecration

of its fluidity by half-witted buffoons.

the energy of concrete afternoons

is secured between violent dawn

and its historic iron girded dusk

by our malleable titans of bloom in action,

each poised to enact their electric potential,

reflecting our nighttime onslaught of human light.