Alphabet City

I’ve a universe abloom in the cellar
early expansion, just seconds old
can fit in my hand, both hands now,
but man, let me tell you, it’s hot!

The roaches appear to fear the neutrinos,
finally they’ve met their match,
they scatter and hide, no laughing dark matter

as a dense and fog-like wannabe light
obscures the path to the boiler

In minutes the ceiling buckles then pops
to reveal through the gape of its tear
the Cubans who live in apartment 1C
backed to the wall, frenzied signing the cross
as their floor dissolves and withers away

Then we double and treble and do it again
and again, maybe once-twice more

Until Alphabet City hovers and throbs
in pulsating light, still too bright,
it buzzes new colors, these youngest days
wet and lush, teeming with life,
implicate order and hope

And that’s where it stops, thank God (I guess)
’cause we’ve all got our trains to catch

© Chagall 2014