bless the builders
their bent backs
hammering hands
who fixed your i-beams
keyed your corbels
poured your concrete
bless your ghosts
reaper ships from jamaica
still docking at daybreak
the banana fiends
still unpacking crates
& waiting for the whistle to blow
bless you, no. 9
the last of your tribe
to be built in philly
with a single story
bless your permanence
blunt beauty, your languid loyalty
bless the visionaries
who resurrected you:
now the bridges & boats
do double takes
& you turn
the river’s head
pier of peers, now you’re many stories
& we are your united fruit
free. alighting from many republics
of the body & mind
garden of artists along the water
cargo of undomesticated dreams
Leave a Reply