“that one flies, soaring above the shoreless city”

No that’s not true.

I cannot carry

dawn into the subway; People

wearing black & staring

for eight hours; Silence

like (a strangled sparrow)

no more

better songs; Everything

the voices scream —

soaring

above the atmosphere. I don’t know

what questions to ask:

“Where is Spain?”

Out of the train

all sighs.

Today

I wished myself to grass

& went                               with