Black Buildings

The sky was dull black as a chalkboard.

But the buildings were brilliant.

From a bridge miles away

the city in sequins rose.

The sky was dull black as a chalkboard.

I dreamed I saw a friend

signal to me from the shoreline.

He was ready for a tour.

I was going into an oven of an underworld.

But the buildings were brilliant.

Hunger sucked my ribs in the morning.

All was starch black as a chalkboard,

but the buildings were brilliant.

Over the sidewalk everything blends—

gunshots and laughter and trains of reasoning.

Stray cats were dying in the alleys.

Rabid dogs descended,

and so I pitied tortured torturers

and supplicants alike.

My face collected pasted moths.

I walked around in search of a mirage.

I dreamed I saw a friend

waving to me from a window.

He was fixing hot food and preparing my bed.

Dawn arrived without a sun.

Still there was no light in the furnace of this place.

But the buildings were brilliant.

The buildings were brilliant.