East River

just to the east of the east village     beyond the place beyond looking
his cat’s sleep is the transition     in its eye the door to
revived itself as a great heap to carry around
afraid to do so the end of a subway ride among the atlantic oceans

i’m exhausted after walking blocks locked away from elegant staircases
i want to check out     be grinding off
and just as certainly toss up love to the windows
as in the village there’s a murmured life of printed halitosis

	i look into eyes     materials
	all of whom grown up and they just flush away
	to see into other eyes     more distant     magazines this time
	the ship heading inland pulling an ocean
	i can feel it crawling up the skin of the statue of liberty
	eyes lined at it across the harbor like a herd of art

from Yew Nork (2014)