skyscraper girls

with
tall, narrow anxieties
tear through new york each winter
ravenous shadows
leaning on each other

but our city was haunted by farm
fields of corn lit golden between chrysler and empire
seasons moving over
glowing spikes

these skyscrapers have roots
underground ways springing up
on bowery and 3rd
growing higher like vine
like the sun in summer.

it is summer.
we do not need your artificial boxes of light.