Tall, the city is
tall and low down it grinds,
the city grinds one against
the next striking spark
against rail, shifting gears,
each turning, turns the next
widdershins, spinning now
this way, now
that way never looking up,
up. There, they say
the towers sway,
down they spin to power
the tall city’s story
hour after hour after hour.
Richard Blumberg, October-November, 2005
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