When in the city
be the city–
a streak of blood
on a wet pavement of taillights–
a roar of subway
breathing through lungs
of manholes–
a dragon steam
from the belly rumbling
your guts from under concrete–

Be the creature
hungering for freedom–
rising with a glint of sunsight
to the highest precipice–
then diving as a peregrine
along your reflection
in a wall of glass
to explode a pigeon
into remnants
of bone and feathers–

Howl with wind
in false canyon
echoing false rapids
in the steel and plastic
flowing along
a riverbed of pavement–
enflesh the manufactured
denying neither the making
nor the shadows
hiding from hot sun–