This city

is my relationship

touched by human hands

no one understands that

understands that when I take

a picture

but I do

take a step

the step you take

with you

on the bottom of your shoe

take the stairs

create the patina

placed by human hands

each brickplaced

there is no machine for this

yet

walk over the bullshit too

look in at empty lots

MOTHER etched in the sidewalk

men play alley craps with

lives

the abandoned

dilapidated

she’s not there

the shadows pass between

buildings downtown

a blimp appears

torn down

by human hands

weeds peek through

rubble piles

forgotten

remains

marquee letters hanging

telephone ringing

one side of the theater blown out

ringing

a sports broadcast coming from an open window

through the screen and down the front stoop

decades ago

step over

the bull

shit

ringing

how many rings does it take to topple a building?

just stop

wherever you are

lie down and go to sleep

or walk until you drop

what keeps some from this and not others?

to stopto drop by

MY PLACE: Spanish & Italian Foods est. 1953

a line out the door

it comes down

the buildings come down

clouds come back

where does it go?

the trash

How it is now