City as Might Have Been
Hanging tiny pictures of skyscrapers from the trees, and
gracious civil servant [leaves] between the leaving stars between the screen, ever so small.
And beneath blue evenings, she’ll now bow down to me [???]
Bring something along with you,
bring a scrap along,
of the city as it might have been,
where lovers are.
There, to rot in towers, windows [that pull and] make sense, that
stands [among] in winter, where I had tea there once.
This was it, mangled by poisonous tongue.
The populace was always [???] or let down, honey
Bring something alive with you,
bring a scrap along
of the city as it might have been,
where lovers are.