Liberal Poetry: "last visit home"

Liberal poetry:

"last visit home"

under this bridge

at night on a quiet bus

the subway scratching into my soul

as it rumbles overhead

and the bus stands still,

i realize

all at once

that i do not know anything.

i look at the stone foundation

and see graffiti,

tags lonely in hallowed light

grass patches half-dead,

the streets

picked empty.

this bus ride home

to the city at night

is a wholly different ride

the light filtering out of range

as people, in their slumber,

dream

and i have beautiful music in my ears

i will play it again

and relive to retell.

earlier in new jersey

passing by the airport

i looked into the scenery

and shuddered at the sight

of the runway's lights (in glass)

floating in the sky:

perfect pockets of light

to help people find bare strips of tarmac

to help me swallow the night

and soon

this ride will end.

looking to the right, i can see

this gorgeous dark-silk city/

after this trip, i will have seen

kids playing on dark streetcorners,

the shadows at the base of bridges

and the cracks,

pizzerias on brilliant, deserted streets

and more dreams

that burn like gas

smoky and hovering above this bus

in the urban nitesky

by Lena Sze

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