UPSTREAM

There‚Äôs no bottom to the city   treeless empty lots   broken stone trash and puddles where buildings were planned to reach the moon and stars   sidewalk people swim upstream in both directions without order searching for a place   sirens help or prevent   subways rattle breathing heavy stoic faces anxious hands

SWING ON

The world past the front porch, watching the same clouds set in the magic of the sky   prayers lift up from swings and wicker chairs escaping through tired screens   cars passing know only of roads, the next corner the direction home or close to it   train whistles cross over buildings and empty … More SWING ON