Tigers spiralling
to concrete indents,
roaring in foresight
Of broken pavements.
Twisting papers are
scattered above me.
Unknown words
are whistled shrilly.
Kettle prayers boiling
in wind-whipped foam,
frothing from meteors
mouthing for home.

To the News:
ants drift like drops
from clouds.
To metropolis, where they
vanish from view.

A woman shatters
the glass ceiling, and
I am halfway up heavy stairs.
Brittle on the quaking
skyline.
The world is leaning
to watch office chairs
Be thrown through windows.
Becoming doors.