Lexington Avenue

Streetlights blink and shudder

Red-eyed
  in the late.
Glass doors reverberate
  in easy winds
        in children’s hands

        in humid breath

  in blue dress dreams

        in paper mirrors reflecting the shimmer dawn

Of gods with voices made for radio
Of smiles with throats made for drinking
Of lip-lined trash made for whispering
Of bipolar doormen made for windows
Of taxis made for taxidermists
  (stuff yourself inside)
Of subway juveniles made for straggling
Of suited lovers made for suites
Of bums made for any other street than
  lioned Lexington Ave
Of mad men mad for
  those gods with voices made for radio


Proclaiming

Ashen, collared,
  Voices of paper mirrors

                 The coming shimmer dawn