Somewhere above 43rd and Broadway
A peregrine falcon nests
On the rim of a roof-top water tank.
The pulmonary power of the Broadway bus
And its subconscious thought,
The Number 3 IRT,
Force movement and
Deliver defibrillation.
None are lost here; none are even lonely.
My mind is like this --
Full of electronics
And loud pictures,
Bright beauties
Larger than life
Colors too vivid for
Real eyes
Schools of people
Swimming uptown
To their jobs.
When i sweep the streets
At first light
i am inviting filth
Praising busy-ness
And sanctifying this
Brief
Frantic
Commute through
Time's full arteries.
--Mr. Gobley
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