Trapped globes of
Factory light and net—
Thought lost and forever
Thermopylae in Bensonhurst—
Salamis off Roosevelt Island
Stones glisten, sick with blood flicker,
Flimsy light of upper east side—
Saguntum at last overlooked
In Astoria under the dark steel bridges
To Manhattan, mercenaries from
The north on the corner
Eating souvlaki—
Behind the club walls the
Un-Tse Un-Tse Un-Tse
Of the DJ thuds hour to hour—
Nepenthe as entrance and tomb to racetrack—
O suffering student of heresies and small threnodies,
Coughing up warm beer in the
Back of a cab and still empyreal
This disastrous, this dominical icefall—
We pass Byzantine churches and mosques
Of Western Queens in the cold sapphire oil of sunset
Giving off melting film and rock bristle,
We, bearing so great a law and supine
Wearing sweaters of ash and shoes of stone—
Star singed away years before,
The end of its suffering light approaching
These empty streets with a cry and horrible accuracy.
Ernest Hilbert
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/superbia-vanity/
