in Philadelphia
when donut
shops turn
to porn only
Believers
belong to
karma and
then
as before
the rest
of us
are free

Magdalena says
to say i'm
financially
secure means
i'm okay
being poor

and need
no understanding

the one
with good
eyes points
from windows
to the flare
of suicide
bombers

the rapist's
therapists
embroider
small thoughts
on couches in
documentaries
ending for some
reason when
threads pull
back into
accordion
cases animals
died to cover

every suffering
thing makes
it's way into
us soon enough

imagine tasting
wind through
fields of
wheat in
bread

let's build
balconies in
the cellar
where we
toast friendship
lighting root
of lilac
and oak
worms and
moles our
nightingales
of mud and
quartz

the world is
ending they say
but yesterday
shushed
a buzz

today the
new world

poem you
Armageddon
bullhorn
wake us
every
street the
free ones