Dieting city, or starving city.
It's hard to tell.
For one thing, it's dark and for another, I feel inadequate.
My perpetual motion has ceased to amuse anyone here I confide.
Even though I wore a beautiful skirt of red silk,
and when I whirled you could see everything.
The river with its captured lights.
The glint of bridges.
The pockmarked Palisades of flame.
So much of this is untrue.
A worm slunk in the sidewalk cracks.
An old, old woman wreathed in snot spoke sharply.
She said, "Just because you give me $5,
don't entitle you to my life story."