Having seen the birches in their milky
speckled splendor, having watched the daystar
melt the frost from green grass swaying silky
still I crave electric, civil pasture:
streams carmine and cream on asphalt rushing,
trickling in between the spires that, screaming,
diamond-studded mock the heavens' hushing,
'twixt the cubes affixed with neon teeming-
heaving here, psychologies of millions
grope for solace in anonymous statures.
True to tribal fashion these bright minions
swell and fade in flocks. And as for nature's
so sublime appeal: but watch the wincing
rainbow stoplight, potency evincing.