Chronotope Chronic: The Night Fell.

the night fell Green
again on manhattan.

again
In the shadows were seen
bare arms of black trees
opened silently to a sky
held aloft fragile high
by
columns
so much
Taller
so much
Bigger
than they.

again
the White arches:
lincoln centre a flash
of candles fading in the half
light…a festival of flickering
bones leaning like a rib cage
curving in to tuck a space in Red, a rage
of motion, a flight
of feet and
an ocean of light
to swim in, to
wish and swish in:

an arena for the twilight.

again
in a whisper it was said
that swallowing the seas
would do no harm, that lives
were not tandem but arrived
at like
knots on
string.
that there
was nothing
to be done at the
base of other White columns

but piss

again
on the pavement was heard
a hum of a thousand glories
glittering in the grout, like chips
of Gold, like sails of flying ships, but
there is
scraping by
the broken heel
some shit
scraping by
up with
scraping by
which i
scraping by
will
not
put.

limping politic clatters
through the night

a near burnt bulb in the heart,
a wave about to crash….

this was the dry land
that was the wet
this is the mainline coming.

this the place we
dance in dust
and do not see the warning.

the night fell Green
again on manhattan

once more you were miles
away stretching out your smiles
like towels. i was walking by
lincoln center in a measured aisle
of beauty
before
the end, my
friend, I
in the Green
light of a rich
night, that Green
of leaves,
of money
and of graves...