held my arms out praying

while the lady patted me down
flight broke in the sun

if brooklyn bridge had wings
we woulda made it
if i’d had a bicycle

arrived in the arms
of the night
poet gods saying it’s alright

my leaves
in her pocket
found a mother

in the land of dreams
found malcom x’s diaries
beethoven’s notes

my heart givers
face eternity
every day

say i’m a red
america needs
no bosses for bread

i drink gallons of wind
but it still don’t get me high
as the northern sky

holding tight to my magic
rock – to gather
loving pulse

bronze eagle outside
hotel left
fish skin on sidewalk

pigeons call
in the day
the gods of new york

how clear it was
this time
like coming out of fog