Exit

Tubas, sirens, jugglers, divas, bimbos, mavens, liars— 
A chasm of paralysis within a set of gridlocked streets 

There were billboards commandeering cancer’s reign 
Chestnut carts, a man dressed like a muppet, 
Rappers selling signatures and fame
I never saw it twice (not of my volition) 
Broadway intersecting Forty-Second at the center of the game

I never made it to the island where the copper woman stands 
I am told she represents our freedom—
The sort that creeps on wafts of silence in the air
Punctured by a thousand noises 
This is a taxi horn and these are avenues sustained by headlights
Drivers starstruck in the name of skyscrapers 
That sit enthroned above the reign of God
I had my nails painted crimson 
I wore a blue felt broad-brimmed hat
And I was barely seventeen 
Swept up in the aura of these massive windows, 
Peering out to apprehend a fountain nestled in a plaza, 
Swapping out my sneakers to confront Fifth Avenue in heels 
Some people can live lavishly 

I was lost in garments and their flower petals
Patterns like a scene of butterflies and wings
Garrulous, the scent of them, but not unlike 
The day I saw a rat disturb the premises 
And once I fell in love with all the branches of the subway
Recalling all the colors you had learned to mix in the third grade 
Bright, attention-seeking letters, digits 
Working all their magic all the same 
And these golden stars! 

I didn’t think to see a Klimt here—
It was very beautiful the way he executes the little flowers 
Flowers?
Did you see my flowers? 
They were made of silk 
Memory persists, and nights laid out in stars 
I didn’t know they had this, either. 
And the lilies! 

There’s a pebble in a park 
More than twice the size of anything I’ve seen 
Well that’s a boulder, madam—
Is it? 
They’ll shoot a girl here in several years 
It will be ringing through the news 
The twigs are dying here 

I was manifesting memories of cherry blossoms in the park 
I ran, and through autumnal voices 
There were grassy eyelets strewn throughout the sidewalks 
I sprinted through the cold 

The oboe crooned, the horns exhaled—
I was back again to witness enervating trebles puncture these contraltos 
Masquerading vengeance as applause 
You said your charms were in these bridges and these people 
Only people cause me such malaise 

There are dancing snowflakes on a stone façade
Tourists flashing takes of Santa 
Merry Christmas in the park? 
My blades glide seamlessly throughout this paramount of pain
There are muddy footprints in the college tundras 
A lilac surfaces from underneath the cracks 
It is like those several Dalí paintings— 
Surreal 

Did you see the spirals in the Guggenheim?
Did you apprehend the Staten Island Ferry 
Blowing back the wind when all the wind comes back 
Did you think you could escape the prudence of this grieving 
But did you see the black horizon rescued by the Brooklyn Bridge? 

I won’t pretend I won’t be trying harder to forget you 
Just like I know I won’t forget the other times I’ve been in love 
I cannot act because the fear distends like bubbles made of longing voices—
And then they pop 

Affected by the moving boxes 
I lay away the tape 

There are little cars that pass below a bridge 
From the airplane they look just like all the lonely little people 
Flitting through the avenues as they float from place to place 
Once I danced below those glowing arches in the middle of the night
The clouds are growing whimsical and white
I will always dance beneath these storied arches 
We are at cruising speeds 
I will be the lilac sprouting from the snow-filled garden
So we have departed 
And I will always know this world made of dreams