let me tell you about us, all five million of us:
we are a city allergic to the damp, when waters rise, we forget to flee
instead, we gaze upwards
searching for sky fire, mistaking light mist for feather embers.
we are a people programmed for brightness, in this postcard, bridge framed city
coaxing bud to open into wisteria and mulberry and
shoving tufts of jasmine into windowsill jars
herding spring like sugar fuelled children onto greyhound coaches,
and all the school fetes and blossom festivals,
fairy floss and food trucks:
Turkish gozleme and vegan donuts
a Filipino family singing
on open mic:
a high school teacher brings her newborn to the festival and
the basketball boys/the almost juvie knowntothecops boys
clear a path for her child,
space, space they call to each other
shrinking as a sign of respect,
let me tell you about us,
without sunlight we do not know ourselves.
Word upon Word 