...It is growing season again,
  buildings push from beneath the pavement,
  bullets sprout from between closed fists,
  fingers twist and burrow their
  crunchy dollar bills...

packing hard dirt in between gritty
  teeth, bronze mud and amber brooklyn leaves,
  dappled queens street lights...

dipped in sunsets, sunrise only along the hudson
  and set by the east
  river,

dance like daisies swinging lazy hips to draw in butterflies,
  this is the city in the spring, wild rugrats and
  tittering teenagers in private school uniforms
  pleating on marching hips...

calling out and sneezing and masks under the chin,
  city alive again, dirt colored smears blot pavement...

sidewalk symphony made mad by endless summer days drawing near,
  dogs barking, shitting, moving between
  the legs of her owner,
  her master-

the city when awakened from slumber.

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