Skyscrapers, huge and dumb as parents, dwarf us
as we walk down Lexington in the rain.
Citicorp’s beveled white head glows orange
as it disappears into a low cloud bank.
I imagine liftoff, bright flames billowing
down the avenues, these towers airborne,
leaving ashen earth behind as they seek orbit.
Manhattan projects beyond itself, irrevocably.
1982