neural streetways coordinate the memory traffic
redirecting the life of the citizen to the mind that
first tread on the spot; a latitude and longitude
for containing the spillover, a discarded cup
stumbled over the shards, cutting open a
closed wound, right along the line of the scar
traffic lights indicate which was the wind will blow
out of the southeast and storms spin and destroy
bridges fold up the curses of forgotten enemies
whose loss has sweetened the distillation
a brew of coffee or beer, never destroying
even when a building is knocked down
never creating, even when tons of steel are
shipped into the port and cranes erect
a poetry of great height, art articulations
that might change the present, because as
every city knows
there is no past
and only a future present
Roman Ryan 