Ascending from
my day’s last platform
into Port Authority,
I was drawn up into
the precision voices
of a children’s choir
high on the upper loft.
ascension
Tag: pigeons
the head on my ankle
You rest your snout upon the crook of my ankle
and stare ahead across the room
as I do,
gazing thoughtless as the day before.
But what to contemplate?
Your chew toy
or cushion
where the bones are buried?
Or pigeon on the ledge?
Or
seeing god naked 