Apr 19, 2006


Blind on the boulevard that points
at the setting sun, barren

silhouettes appoach, noisy
vectors of rush hour. Bound

upstream, light ignites
the screaming rails.

Fatuous spring, running late

Empty car's bombast, a thudding
door, a long tag along

the fence to Queensboro:

Brazen S: ride with me
all the way to Union Square.

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