coffee on the terrace of the penthouse
morning on 49th Street, in Radio
City
Rockefeller Plaza, just a skate away
columns of concrete, of glass and steel
skyscrapers pushing into the powder blue sky
green-copper spires reflected in their faces
their soft patina wavering in the sunlight
a curious pigeon comes to greet me
the sounds of the city are pressing
sirens wailing, saws whining over the drone
of HVAC exhaust and automobile engines
the arhythmic clang of steel on steel
fills the air with hollow waves
all around me hammers fall
and the city hums with a ghostly bustle
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