9/11/13 by Jonathon Penny

there once was a city
grim and golden as
a smudge or smear of
candlewax or oil on
restive rolling water
rearing toward the
heavens in fits and
fickle starts as close
as bees there was a
city animal and loud
loud and joyful loud
and lunging at a side
long, serial dream
and then oh
then there
a wound
a city grieving
the burned bodies of
the lost the wayward
dead and grieving too
the vital rushing in of
fools who clambered
up into furnaces then
went straight to hell
dark cavities of ash
so dark in search of
breathings and the
dead there was a city
galled and grieving
anger so bright it
could ignite like this
but no not this not
him not her not us
not them and please
dear god not now
then grieving grief
itself then grieving
fear like flares and
wildfire furies sure
but then there was a
city mourning with
its mourners lifting
hands that hung low
emptied by the fire
and furious fall of
their great city left
as grim and golden
as the smudge and
smear of candlewax
or oil on holy water
rising up to Heaven
in fits and steadfast
starts contiguous as
kestrel calls or bees
a city loud and lousy
loud and joyful loud
and feral to a fault
but ever grasping at a
sage a sidewise sweet
resilient serial dream

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