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That City
Nothing can pry that city away from me
I keep coming back to it I travelled all the way across the country To rid myself of it To exhale it To syphon it off from my blood But it's in me too deeply So deeply that late at night As I lay in bed listening to my breathing It falls into me and seeps out of me I drift into the haze of dreamscapes Knowing it's still fully there, concrete as City Hall It's with me in traffic Blows a kiss with every honking horn It talks to me on the radio Where every announcer sounds like the pattering of shoes The clap of each syllable reflecting From polished marble That city is with me in this city Waving hello with every passing bus It is with me in the country In the mountains and in the desert Calling me back, blue-lit and weeping Into its open arms The city says sweet things and makes me laugh It bats its eyelashes and spills oil from its taxis The city blushes when killers run loose And curses when beggars ask for change The city is ashamed of itself |
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