The city rose until the lake beneath it
dried, and then it hung there, suspended in air.
Riding with a sidecar on our motorbike
Human beings are indecisive and
bejeweled by desire, you say,
Lock a city in time and it dies.
How out of the night sky your words allow
mountains to drop through the continent.
It came to us in the days when the city
was little more than a scaffold
that the inferno of the living
would burn at the core of polis,
drawing into itself as a nautilus.
You say, the city is an aspect of human anatomy,
and I catch the side of your face in the fading light.
[BIO]: Andrew received his MFA in Poetry from CUNY – Brooklyn College.