my city



in my city
the traffic cops seethe sarcasm
and the coffee stand man
gives a big silver smile
he’s happy to see the people
he hasn’t seen before

in my city
the streets change directions without warning
and russian cab drivers
talk about anemic wives who hate A/C
we pick up margaritas to go
because we can

in my city
a newspaper can mean
a million different things
omens and guiding lights are scattered
and we are all bound together
by unexplainable circumstance


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