Being oblique, the buildings
of the city pretend to be military.
They sit rumpled in approximate lines
encroaching into each others’ space
like old men and women on the tramway.
But when has streamlined, gridded picture
ever freed a place from culture-weight?
I will take the approximate
order of the everyday-
the kind of city that fleshy hands make
that brains stained by woodland sun
and turquoise water create
one generation after another-
a free metropolis.
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