City Limits (excerpt)
James Grabill
I. The City Sleeps and Wakes
The modern city unregulated
in a state of overflow hires
a variegated staff before it sets sail
on a black Steinway with the sheen
of a spinner dolphin taking aim
for where the sun goes sinking dusk
fast into the ocean of microorganisms,
for the city if it were a person revels
in looming amounts of raw conflict
and joy if for no other purpose
than to see it’s survived in presence
long enough to recover from work,
then fall asleep in the arms of water
one bird to the next, one last or first
cigarette flicked into a cereal bowl
before a beriddled city in climax slips
off its handle in heavy floods, in solar
spotlight which overtakes crossings
where multiple leaves have been
harvesting more light for food before
it’s awake, the city, needing more
volumes of sleep before swimming
its tropics, undertaking liquid moves,
speaking as if the museum’s trying
to show it’s good for species to grow,
to dream in feather beds, blue heron
cane chairs, in blue jay doorways
when the body’s leading everywhere
the day takes it into timelessness.
​
......
​
(pp. 65-68, The Hong Kong Review, Vol. III, No. 3)
​