‘Cities, stars / on maps that adorn…’

The city itself is a desperado. I have ridden to its edge
into red maize. Time spins faster

in the fields. I brought an hourglass.
Sand flashed in the joining

tube with urgency of lust:
to eat the spans of women

and men. And the world
is a broad sphere, we surmise;

more than fables ramify
beyond the maize. Other Cities, stars

on maps that adorn the walls of libraries:
Genoa, Carthage, Goa, Tenochtitlan. . . .

Photograsph by Ferroggraro

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