Skyscraper

An ode to New York City

O skyscraper, I love you, though some may
Call you Babel-beacon, Icarus-stick,
Or middle finger, hypodermic syringe,
You, needling the firmament with dares:
Just try and bomb me, plague me, pummel me
With babble, make me rubble, prove me wrong.
Like dominos in rows you ask to fall,
If ever a fed-up finger comes to push.
I cringe beneath your bulk, await a hand—
Where in the course of empire do we stand?

O skyscraper, I love your diadem
Where we ascend to revel in the lights
Of lower buildings ‘round you like bright moons,
Your entourage of architectural awe.
We used to trespass to your narrow crown
To feel the storms go by, grazing our heads
And licking us with too-near lightning. Dead
Was not a word we knew, all was pulsing,
And all was charged with loud, electric life
Thanks to you, O immortal mirage.

O skyscraper, I’ll love you to the end,
In spite of too-tall boasts that bolster you
And put you on a thousand posters, you
Celebrity-structure, king of things made
By man, John Lennon of the sky, who brags
He’s big as Jesus—take a bow! You smirk
And swagger like a show-off to my friends
As we ascend to your uppermost floor.
My ears are popping—God, you live this high?
Your gardens are clouds; your lawn is the sky.

O skyscraper, I miss you, in my house
In the suburban desert, far away,
Although I know when I see you again
I’ll tense a little in your shadows long
And wish for open skies instead. That’s how
It goes, I guess, we can’t live without you,
But living with you casts penumbras, too.
The suburbs burn, the country isolates,
And cities buzz with tension. Where is home?—
Somewhere between the buildings where we roam?

Still, out the window of this moving train
I crane my neck to catch an early glimpse
Of skyline-spine above the lungs of earth,
A grand procession, shining litany
Awaiting worship, wonder, maybe fear.
We cannot see your face when we draw near.
Icon or idol—which one are you, Tower?
Or something we should slay on a great altar?
Or is this long apology all null?
Won’t Paradise be a city, after all?