I guess it depends
if you want to be lonely
alone or
with many others
squeezed so tight in this
fist of a city
spread out so far in this barren
womb of a city
in this place where children come
to be adults,
adults, children
restless from pure
mushroom pumped into veins
the color of a smog-dusted areola
the palm trees here
made of steel, blooming
into rooftop gardens
the buildings here hollow
memorials to other lives
lived onscreen
how are bodies shaped
by their cities
what cramped haggard
structures erected where
there is no room
what augmentations, swells
from too much room
either is a growth with disfigurement
and both are so rich
in poverty, in sexiness
in loneliness
which presses in on all sides
in the form of people
or lack of people
rubbing up against you
on the 1
or so far away your voice
dissipates in the distance
it takes to carry yourself to them

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