Two Poems • A.J. Huffmann

The City Awakens

after Awakening City, artist Osnat Tzadok

in a strange waterfall of light and sound.
Motion boorishly tramples that strange solace
of pre-dawn silence. Streets virtually erupt
in guttural gravel crunching. Screaming
horns and tires act as otherworldly roosters,
crowing at the sun, childishly playing
peek-a-boo between garishly gleaming skyscrapers.


The City Looks

better in reflection. Backwards but distilled
in window’s glass. I watch it waiver behind me,
diminished to something only slightly larger than myself.
I am conqueror of this emerald fortress. This giant
who cannot be slain has met its minotaur. I devour
the shine of silver, retrofit remnants to keep me
warm in bitter winds that howl against all I have
accomplished. Something cracks
in the distance. Lightning reminds me
all images are fleeting.
I continue to watch the pane as both of us melt under drops
of acid rain.