Categories

archive Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to create an index of your own content. Learn more.


Authors

archive Block
This is example content. Double-click here and select a page to create an index of your own content. Learn more.

Poetry: The Zen of the City

The Zen of the City

 

The zen of the city may not exist; its

brick too busy, the fattened arteries of its

avenues too corroded with the

marbling of muds and snows, too

gaseous with its spit-and-chokes. 

It is a melody too faint, strained to catch

amidst the Bluetooth beat of Wall Street wings,

of bodies pecking pigeonry, our

use of public transport like some

gift we commune, to offer, the Earth. 

But I’ve seen him, revealed, in the citric

glow of a Sun breaking city’s seam, upturned,

among the littered alarm, like a

note’s sudden harmony hooked from

heavy-lunged dissonance, here-and-gone. 

And I have felt its reverb, in a

ribbon-bodied high, in a stein-warmed

belly, too questionable in their

proposed impurities to dismiss, but too

greedy in their resolve to sustain. 

So I wage burned pursuit, in the

exorcism of a run, in the dog-eared wisdoms

of others, the sweat of blacklit voodoo, the

practiced calm of my crowded room, the telling of an

unflattering self, in search of form. 

The zen of the city may not exist, too

erect, too obsessed; but within its

tint, I’ve caught quick glimpse of

something’s wave-and-recede lowly lulling

from behind a strangely familiar surface. 

 

 

All rights reserved to Nikolas James Perez

Poetry: Mike Barthman

Poetry: D. Sykes