The tourist.
visiting New York. top
of the Empire State
Building. people below
blown like dust
in an afternoon sunbeam.
we stand about, seeing
the landscape at angles.
I hate it; there is nothing
of interest up here.
fine—some small majesty
if you must look at
majesty—skyscrapers;
Manhattan like a comma
underneath. but remember
just walking down
around among litter-
bins. the view
from our hostel in Brooklyn;
the street by a park –
cookouts, wild sparrows,
people getting
in fights.
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