There is still an ugliness
along the line
sheets of sideways rain soak wooden
pallets
The graffiti curtains are sunshine through the rain
this could be
anywhere
any where or everywhere
every where piles of red brick
rotted white mortar
speckled and reaching
I think that someone was
singing hip hop through
rattle canned walls tagged and shining
a black bird sits in a brushy tree
palm of skeleton fingers a blackbirds foothold
handing him to heaven
Heaven seems to be more important here
Heaven seems to be harder to find
I am used to finding heaven in the mountains
heaven in the ocean
in the trees
but here I think you have to hold onto it
at home you open your door
it calls you out
but here right now I am alive
I can feel it
the click of the track and
heaven that belongs to the local parish
I can feel
everything
I can feel wooden rails and stomach butterflies
butterflies and the opening sky
letting the blue through
It is what it is
I can feel it and I know
it is what it is