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Empire of the Sun


Every evening I half press

                           my face to the window of the living


              to watch the sun


              behind the skyline.


It’s framed by another apartment building


               to the right

and across

the street,

                           and another

(under construction)

to my left and on the same side

                                         of the street

                                         as the apartment


                                                     to the slight right.

If I con-

tort my neck

just enough

I can see purple

swallowing orange

while the Empire State

stands watch

and while the stainless steel

of the Chrysler does its best

to reflect the day being devoured.


Before I Insta-story #nycsunset 

                           in a vain attempt to own

                                        a moment of this cycle,

I despair for the neighbors

to the slightest of rights 

and across the street, 

                                                       but wonder,

                                                                     Do they

                            ever watch the sun rise

                                                                     and consume me? 



Newtown Literary, 2020

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